


The Wolf of the Shire

by Niahara_Erskine



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bilbo finds a wounded wolf, Canonical Character Death, Drama, Fell Winter, In turn the wolf saves Bilbo, M/M, Non canonical character death, Tragedy, Wolves, alternative ending, and saves him, changed timeline, guardian!Bilbo, protector of the Shire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niahara_Erskine/pseuds/Niahara_Erskine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wounded wolf cub finds a friend in a bright eyed hobbit lad. Years later, during the Fell Winter, a full grown dire wolf charges against her kin and against the orcs. On her back a now grown hobbit, wielding a spear, fights to protect his home. Heroes are not born, they are made in battle.</p><p>As he crosses the rolling hills of the Shire, Thorin Oakenshield pegs its inhabitants as fragile and sheltered. Nothing can prepare him for the sight of a dire wolf protecting a hobbit that hides a vein of mithril underneath the gentleness of his race.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red prints on pristine snow

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, you have to read [ Child of the Earth and Sky ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/731004/chapters/1361456) by LittleBigSpoon. It is amazing :) It is one of the best written AUs I had ever had the fortune to stumble over, honestly.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything ( except the wolf ). I'm merely borrowing the characters to play with them.

The wolf, barely more than a cub, staggered on the path. The arrow sticking out of its side drew blood with each step she made, painting the white snow, red. Each step was a struggle for survival that made breathing harder and harder. Her body shook with feverish tremors. She needed help, but the forest was eerie silent. Not even a bird chirped in the trees.

'Is this to be my end then?' the wolf mused softly to herself as the pain became too much and she fell into a heap on the cold forest ground.

A veil fell over her eyes; through the mist she barely made the form of a stranger making his way towards her. He was small, a human cub or something similar. She growled at him and barred her teeth with her last powers, but he merely cooed at the wolf, undaunted by her threat.

"Shh, there, it'll be ok," he petted her fur with a small hand, unafraid of the sharp teeth, "mama's on the path here. She's gonna make you better."

Those were the last words that followed her into that darkness that soon claimed her. For days without end the wolf knew no more and hovered on the threshold of death. She was hot and cold at the same time, aching and numb, feeling yet unfeeling. She wanted it all to be over, yet she fought to survive. All the time she heard the soft voice of the human cub willing her to live and another voice, even softer, asking her to fight.

When she finally woke up, the world was too bright around her. She could barely discern anything, but she felt something soft caressing her fur. Moments later, when the world started shifting into focus, she saw a small shape, with strange fur and bright blue yes, watching her kindly. She recognized the human cub from before, yet he was so much smaller than she had first thought. Next to him another shape that smelled of milk and home – the mother of the cub – cooed at the wolf as she applied something smelly to the wound.

"You're alright now, darling," the mother said, yet the sounds made no sense to the wolf. "You'll be up and running in no time."

Weeks later the wolf had mended enough to leave the cozy confines of the human shelter. She ran, without looking back, but knowing that some day she would return to her saviors. One day, when she would be strong and dangerous, she would come back to protect those that saved her.

Years later, she appeared on his doorstep... the wolf, now grown, was almost as tall as the human cub. She came with blood on her teeth and the Fell Winter in tow.


	2. With danger in her wake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, this is a darker Middle Earth than the one in the novel, resembling mostly the atmosphere of the movie ( but, as usual I will combine the novel, the book and the lovely appendices from Lord of the Rings in order to give shape to this story ). Moreover, the Fell Winter will be moved closer to Bungo's death and the timeline will be messed up.

There are stories told in the dead of the night, in hushed whispers, of shadow warriors protecting the borders of the Shire. Some say it is the rangers of the North, brought there at the bidding of the infamous wizard Gandalf. Others believe it is the members of the Took family that take up arms and disappear one day, never to be seen in the Shire again. It was even said that the ghost of Bullroarer Took patrols the borders in order to keep the land safe.

Belladonna Took believes none of these tales. She had seen no Rangers or mysterious hobbits in her voyages. She knows every member of the Took family and all of them are accounted for in the great Smials of Tuckbourough or in homes of their own. However, as she gazes at the squabbling babe in her arms, she finds herself wishing the tales were true. She would love to live thinking someone is watching over them and protecting them from the Shadow stretching over the land. Belladonna knows the Shire is not safe, not by any accounts. For she has been outside its borders and seen firsthand the destruction caused by the foul creatures that roam the land.

As she closes her eyes at night, she remembers walking by Gandalf's side through burning villages trying to find any survivors. She remembers the howls in the night and the shrieks of the orcs. She believes she can never forget them… As the babe cries in her arms, she vows to teach him how to fight, to help him protect himself from the ever spreading darkness. She can only hope it will not reach them too soon.

Shire, Third Age, December 2905 

Bilbo Baggins grew up unlike any other fauntling of the Shire. During the day, as all of Yavanna's young children are wont, he would learn herb lore from his father and run with his cousins, feeling the grass under his feet. He would listen to the history of the Shire by Old Took's side and climb trees to steal apples from the Sackville-Baggins' garden. However, in the evening, his mother would closet him in the study, where she would show him wondrous maps of Middle Earth. Belladonna would teach him Sindarin and the few words in Khuzdul she learned during her travels. She would tell him snippets of her travels and show him how to wield daggers. Despite, the alarmingly unhobbitish behaviour of his wife and son, Bungo Baggins would say nothing, because he too noticed the danger lurking in the air and the shadows in his wife's eyes.

Once he grew into his tweens, Bilbo set off on his own. He would tread the paths of the Shire up and down, seeking the Elves of his mother's stories and practicing his dagger wielding skills on the innocent trees. If asked, Belladonna probably could tell the exact path her son set off onto. After all, they were the same paths she had travelled in her childhood. Yet, Bilbo pushed farther and farther, reaching the boundaries of the Shire and gazing starry eyed across them, dreaming of adventure and greatness.

Still, he returned home every evening without fail, just in time for his lessons. His mother would say nothing upon seeing his eyes dancing with joy and longing. She would simply bring him into the study and continue his lessons, while his father would shake his head and puff his pipe in mock annoyance.

One particularly snowy day, Bilbo took off in the woods as soon as dawn broke. He could not tell what was calling him towards that particular spot, but his feet had a mind of their own and kept him going. As soon as he reached one of his favourite clearings, he heard muffled whines and sharp intakes of breath. A grey shape was lying on the snow, the ground around it stained red. As he drew closer, Bilbo made recognized the shape of a wolf, albeit a small one. The wolf barred his teeth at him and growled weakly.

Twigs snapped behind him and as he crouched low to pet the wolf's fur, Bilbo recognized his mother's shawl in the distance.

"Shh, there, it'll be ok," he said unafraid, "mama's on the path here. She's gonna make you better."

When Belladonna Baggins saw Bilbo standing in the snow, petting a wolf cub, her first instinct was to pick up her son and run. She had seen firsthand the carnage dealt by packs of wolves in human villages. She had fought wolves in the dead of the night. But, as she looked closer, she saw the wolf was only a cub and her son was not afraid of it.

"Can we save it, mama?" Bilbo asked with a weak voice. "Please?"

Bringing a wolf in Hobbiton gave raise to much gossip among the sensible Shire folk. The Sackville-Baggins muttered that Belladonna had finally gone round the bent. The Baggins relatives of her husband clucked their tongues in disbelief and shook their heads in disappointment. However, the most important people in her life, her son and her husband, believed she was doing the right thing healing the wolf.

They almost lost the cub many times during the healing process. The wound had festered and the wolf was caught in feverish delirium. However, in the end the cub survived. Little by little it mended and as soon as spring came, the wolf left.

Nobody thought she would ever be seen again…

Life went on as before in the Shire. Rumours came from the outer world, rumours of villages burning, of death and despair. However, both Bree and the Shire remained untouched. Many grew complacent and believe the rumours to be nothing more than lies.

Until winter came again…

Until the Brandywine Bridge froze over…

Until howls and shrieks echoed in the forests of the Shire…

Until the wolf appeared once more on their doorstep with the Fell Winter on her path...


	3. In death and darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's dagger wielding skills were actually inspired by this image [ Deviantart ](http://daekazu.deviantart.com/art/Little-Red-Riding-Hood-and-Big-Bad-Wolf-338660462). The spear was inspired by the amazing fic I told you about, Child of the Earth and Sky ( because Bilbo's already getting a sword from the troll horde and I can't see him using a bow, sorry. Plus there's not many weapons you can use while riding a wolf ), but that's were all resemblance stops.
> 
> This chapter was a pain to write. I stink at writing battle scenes, I always have a hard time writing them and I was also itching to get to the Gandalf meeting chapter already. So, I'm a bit apprehensive about how it turned out. Please let me know what you think about it. And thank you for your comments, kudos and bookmarks.

_Shire, Third Age, January - February 2926_

One day after the arrival of the wolf, the blizzard started. It came out of nowhere and assaulted the Shire with harsh winds and thick layers of snow. The warm hobbit homes soon found themselves frozen and the full pantries became lacking as days passed and the winter gave no signs of leaving. The wolf paced the entirety of Bag End, sniffing at the windows and waiting for something far worse to come. It their hearts, the members of the Baggins family hoped the winter would be the worst thing they had to face.

Still, as time passed, Belladonna felt apprehension gather in her soul. The weather was getting colder and colder. Her family was suffering and she had no way of helping them. Already, Bungo had been claimed by a bad case of chills and lay in bed all day long, huddled under many blankets, coughing harshly and battling the fever. Though Bilbo gave no signs of falling ill, she was not so fortunate. She tried to hide it from her husband and son,but fatigue and shivers were plaguing Belladonna. Her kitchen knives were barely steady in her hands as she rationed their food and cooked dinner. She did not dare think what would happen should a much stronger foe attack their home.

More days flew by and the winter continued raging on. Hobbit homes were completely buried under snow and the larders were becoming emptier each day. More and more inhabitants of the Shire were forced to venture the cruel weather in order to survive. One day, the Brandywine Bridge froze and brought death to the Shire.

First came the wolves... their howls echoed in the Shire and the hobbits that were caught outside their homes were torn to shreds under the horrified eyes of their neighbours. Bilbo was thankful for the snow that was shielding his window, for he could not see the hobbit whose anguished cries rang loud in the night as the wolves ended his life. He could not help himself and threw a judgemental look towards his own wolf who lowered her head as if sensing his thoughts.

They huddled together inside the house as long as they could, emptying the larder and waiting for the howls to disappear. Still, the wolves endured. Sickness started claiming the land. More and more hobbits succumbed to the chill of the winter. Bungo took a turn for the worst; fever claimed him completely and threw him into a delirious slumber. His body shook with chills and he cried in the night. Herbs did nothing to fight the illness and Belladonna watched her husband helplessly, waiting for the fever to break or the end to come. Her own symptoms worsened and several times Bilbo caught her coughing blood and phlegm in a napkin, huddled under a woolen shawl.

The wolf scratched at the door to be let out every night. At day she would return with her coat matted with blood and scratches all over her. Still, despite the pain and the blood, she valiantly returned outside, each night, without fail. One day, she came back with a spear in her mouth found who knew where. The weapon was placed on the mantle above the fireplace. No one knew how to wield it.

When all hobbits were at their lowest, the fires started and the orcs came. Buckland was the first to be set ablaze. The Brandybuck family fled to the Old Forest where it is said the trees themselves protected them. Spirits of the forest gave them shelter and kept them safe. Few perished that night, but many more would die in the days that followed.

Those of Frogmorton were less lucky; some managed to barricade themselves in their homes, but some fell under the poisoned blades. And the orcs marched on, undaunted, towards Hobbiton and Tuckborough.

The Baggins' wolf howled loudly that night, scratching at the door with more impatience than usual. She glanced often at Bilbo and Belladonna, both armed, fear etched on their faces as they waited for the arrival of the hoard. From time to time the wolf glanced to the spear above the mantle place and whined at Bilbo, as if prompting him to pick it up.

Thud... thud... thud...

Sounds like drums rang everywhere. Metal encased feet shook the frozen ground of the Shire. Hobbits yelled in despair and fauntlings cried as the fires started. With a determined look, Bilbo glanced at his mother, ill and shivering, then thought about his father, caught in the throes of feverish dreams in his bed. Making up his mind, the hobbit grabbed the daggers his mother had taught him how to use during his lessons. When the wolf butted him with her head, he acquiesced and brought the spear as well, tying it to his back.

"Bilbo," Belladonna started, but was stopped by a harsh cough. Her eyes pleaded with him not to go, to remain as safe as possible behind the wooden door of Bag End. Still, around them the shrieks of the orcs and the pounding on the doors echoed. No one was safe, not by a long shot.

"Take care," Bilbo Baggins whispered for what might have been the last time.

"You too," his mother said through her tears as she hugged her son then moved to the door, ready to bar it again.

The wolf howled loudly as she stepped outside. Her kin had disappeared in the shadows, leaving the orcs and goblins to take their place. Many hobbits were on the streets fighting valiantly to protect their invaded homes, some with kitchen knives or wood axes. The goblins, first daunted to see such resistance from this soft-hearted folk, recovered swiftly and attacked more viciously. The wolf knelt on the snow and nudged her saviour to mount. She promised herself once, when she was a cub, that she would keep him safe. Now it was time to fulfil that vow.

Bilbo mounted the wolf with apprehension. He glanced left and right, taking in the destruction that was being done in Hobbiton just as he felt himself surge forward. A quick stab of his dagger brought a goblin to his knees, just as he was preparing to stab a tearful hobbit lass. What followed next was a flurry of swipes and slashes, stabs and cuts as he fought to keep himself alive and protect as many hobbits as he could. In one of the few breathing moments, Bilbo was surprised to see Hobson Gamgee knocking orcs left and right with his frying pan, while his son, Hamfast, was throwing something – were those potatoes? – at any foe that dared approach his younger sister.

The fight dragged on and on. Bilbo's daggers had gotten lost, embedded in orcs and goblins he had slain. At one point he had been forced to rely on the spear his wolf had brought. The weapon felt heavy and foreign in his hands, yet he had no choice but to use it, unless he wanted to die. A red dawn washed over the city as Hobbiton stood burning. Its land was stained in red and black; many hobbits had fallen, but even more foes had met their doom. All were weary and the battle could have taken a turn for the worst for the Shire folk... However, in was in that moment when hope seemed lost, that the horns sounded and the Rangers appeared. The Men of the North came to the aid of the hobbits. Soon, all orcs were either driven off or slain. The battle had been won...

Weary, bruised and drenched in blood, Bilbo struggled to return home. His wolf was just as weary as him and even more battered. She had received several hits meant for him, though nothing life threatening. Her loyalty astounded him; it was more Belladonna who saved her life, so why had she bonded with him?

When Bag End appeared in sight, fear gripped Bilbo's heart. The door to the hobbit hole was forced open and black blood stained its doorstep. Wary, he made his way inside. Two goblins stood slain on the floor of the living room. Chocked sobs came from the bedroom; Bilbo dashed inside and remained rooted in the doorstep. Stone faced and silent he watched as his father, having finally won over the fever that plagued him, held the body of a pale and unmoving Belladonna in his arms. A bloody dagger, once embedded in Belladonna's side had fallen on the floor in a small pool of blood.

The battle had been won, but the cost had been too great...

Three days after the orcs had been defeated, the blizzard gave up and warmth started sweeping into the land.

Five days after, the funeral for all fallen hobbits was held. Belladonna was lowered in the ground alongside several dozens of other Shire folk.

Two months after his wife's passing, Bungo Baggins gave in to the Fading. His grief had been too strong...

When Bilbo Baggins buried his father, he also buried all unhobbitish behavior. The once rebel hobbit who climbed trees and chased elves, was replaced with a respectable, gentle-hobbit who was in time for all seven meals, chatted with his relatives and smoked pipe weed. His only eccentricity was the wolf who was always by his side, a wolf named Cypress, a most unusual name for the Shire.

However, whispers echoed around the Shire... whispers of a lonely sentinel astride a large wolf protecting the borders of the Shire in the dead of the night. Nobody could claim to have truly seen the lonely watcher so the rumours were cast aside as mere fantasies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cypress means death, despair, mourning, sorrow, etc. I was torn between Cypress and Asphodel which I believe most of you know it means "My regrets follow you to the grave", but since the Cypress is the symbol of Artemis, the Greek goddess of Hunt, I found it more fitting.


	4. I can't escape my past

Shire, Third Age, 2941

_**Fires burn everywhere. The land is drowned in blood and anguished cries. Blurry figures run from the poisoned blades that follow them. The echoes of the wolf howls and the shrieks of the orcs ring loud in the night. The moon itself is coated in red. A mournful howl echoes in the air as Cypress falls to the ground, unmoving.** _

With a cry, Bilbo fell out of bed, entangled in his bed sheets. His heart raced furiously as he rubbed his eyes, trying to chase away the images of his nightmare. Next to him, Cypress whined with annoyance, disliking being woken up. Still, even though she was half asleep, the wolf opened her eyes and raised her head a little, as if in inquiry.

"It's nothing, you silly cub!" Bilbo murmured fondly. At four feet tall, the wolf was anything but a cub, but the endearment had stuck. "Just a memory of the past, I think."

Still, the nightmare felt nothing like his memories of the Fell Winter. The weather was much warmer and a mountain towered in the distance. A forest was ablaze and the orcs were atop wolves much bigger than his own.

"Nothing to do about it now," Bilbo muttered to himself and left for the kitchen. Once inside he prepared a nice breakfast with a steaming cup of tea. Although spring had come for several weeks now, the weather still retained a part of winter's bite. Paws echoed on the wooden floor of Bag End before Cypress made her appearance. It amazed Bilbo how much she acted like a dog sometimes, although she was a natural born predator. With strangers she kept her guard up and bared her fangs, but when it came to him she was nothing more than an overgrown puppy unless the situation called for somberness.

Cypress headed towards the door and scratched it in impatience. She wanted to run and Bilbo acknowledged her need by flinging the door open. However, unlike other days, she suddenly tensed and remained just outside the door, sniffing the air. The hobbit sat down on the bench, beside her, one hand kept steady on her neck to calm the wolf and the other holding the steaming mug of tea.

A stranger, clad in grey and blue, was coming up the lane. In his right hand he carried a walking stick, though it was clear from his bearing that it was much more than an elder man's support. Bilbo knew him and knew of him although he had not been seen in the Shire since the hobbit was a mere fauntling.

"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf the Grey greeted him. "You were covered in mud and leaves last time I saw you."

"Good morning." Bilbo mumbled.

"What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it to be or not or that you feel good this morning or that it is a morning to be good on? "

"Must everything turn into a riddle with you, Gandalf?" Bilbo sighed and the wolf at his side growled. The wizard was quick to notice the unexpected addition, yet no surprise shone on his face. "Let us assume I meant all of them in one."

"Well, at least you remember who I am," the wizard noticed in surprise.

"My mother spoke often of you before she passed away," the hobbit forced himself to swallow over the knot that formed in his throat. Even after almost two decades the wound was too fresh. "How may I help you?"

"I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."

Bilbo froze upon hearing those words. The last adventure had ended in tears and wounds that would never close. He hadn't even invited that particular adventure over, it just stumbled on his doorstep with the winter in tow.

"I'm afraid an adventure is the last of my priorities right now," Bilbo said with a steely resolve. "That last one that visited me was far from pleasant. Besides, the Shire needs me."

"The Shire and its borders are protected, Bilbo," Gandalf said, throwing a knowing look at Cypress who had lain at Bilbo's feet, still tensed and ready to attack. "You know better than I that the Rangers never leave their post."

"The Rangers can't be everywhere, Gandalf," Bilbo's thoughts brought him back to the straggler goblins that had remained in the forests of the Shire long after the end of the Fell Winter or the lonely wolves that still howled close to the borders of East Farthing.

"You can't be everywhere either, dear Bilbo. When are you going to stop trying to redeem yourself for events that were beyond your control?"

In a flash, Bilbo rose to his feet, spilling half the contents of the mug. His body shook with barely suppressed anger as he turned on his heels and moved to the door of Bag End, Cypress at his side. Inhaling deeply, he turned to Gandalf one last time and answered tensely.

"Probably never... The Shire needs me Gandalf. You can tell whoever needs my help to search for someone else."

With those words and without biding the wizard goodbye, he entered his hobbits hole. Sighing, Bilbo turned towards his wolf and asked in annoyance.

"Do you think he's going to give up?"

Cypress' soft growl was answer enough.

"Well then, it appears we have some preparations to make," the hobbit groaned, "Mother always said Gandalf loved to bring unexpected guests at dinner."

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

The table was set. Bilbo hoped the contents of his larder would be enough to satisfy whatever guests Gandalf would be bringing. Belladonna had ruefully complained many times that whenever Gandalf brought someone over, the larder would be emptied. When the first knocks – more like hammers – on the door echoed in the stillness of the room, the hobbit tied his robes and ushered Cypress away. There was no need to scare off the strangers at the door.

"Dwalin, at your service," the newcomer, at tall dwarf covered in tattoos, drawled in a gruff tone and pushed himself inside the house.

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours," Bilbo rolled his eyes in annoyance at the brusque manners of his guest. "Dinner is ready and set in the living room," the hobbit announced and pointed in the right direction.

Chicken, goose, fish, hare, duck, cheese, bread, smoked ham, all were set on the table, along with several pints of ale and a particularly nice and flavored wine. Dwalin glanced at the hobbit in awe, wondering what in Mahal's name had prompted such a feast.

"I'm afraid Gandalf did not announce me how many of you there would be," the hobbit stated candidly, "so I am unsure whether there is enough for all."

"Fourteen and it is more than enough," Dwalin answered bewildered, "But this meal must have taken hours to arrange. Are all hobbits so prone to generosity towards strangers?"

"Most of them, but not all," Bilbo answered ruefully thinking of the Sackville-Baggins. "However, Gandalf was a good friend of my mother and she told me stories of his propensity to drop by announced and with guests in tow."

The discussion was cut off when the doorbell rang and another dwarf appeared in the doorstep. This one was older if appearance was anything to go by, with a long, white beard. And they kept coming... the doorbell and the knocks at the door continued until twelve dwarfs and one smirking wizard were emptying the contents of his larder faster than he ever thought was possible.

 

Blunt the knives, bend the forks

Smash the bottles and burn the corks

Chip the glasses and crack the plates

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

 

Cut the cloth, tread on the fat

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat

Pour the milk on the pantry floor

Splash the wine on every door!

 

"Enough!" Bilbo bellowed in annoyance and all the dwarfs stopped in mid-song. "Those dishes belonged to my mother and are some of the precious few things I have left of her," he growled menacingly. "You are guests in my house, therefore it comes to me to gather them. If you want to help wash them, I do not object, but do so with care!"

Sufficiently chastised, the dwarfs continued their actions at a more sedate pace. Soon enough, all dishes, save one, were cleaned and put in their place.

Thud… thud… thud… a pounding came from the door.

"He's here," Gandalf announced.


	5. I'm lost in memories of long ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support. A quick note on this chapter, because Bilbo may pass as OOC. In comparison to the Hobbit novel and movie this Bilbo is different. His Took side is dominant with the Baggins side rearing its head now and then. He is a very confident hobbit who has seen very much, but was unable to sweep it aside and forget. In other words he's pretty much a BAMF who's not going to take Thorin's crap :P Enjoy and let me know what you think.
> 
> The part in bold between - - is a memory sequence.

Thud… thud… thud… a pounding came from the door. "He's here," Gandalf announced with a grave tone. The other dwarfs all stiffened and glanced at the door. Bilbo, less than impressed by whoever it was that arrived so late, joined Gandalf muttering about "rude guests" and "not another one."

The door opened and Bilbo almost took a step back at the sight of the newcomer. His posture was intimidating. Eveything from his braided dark hair to his piercieng blue eyes yelled "royalty" and "determination." To Bilbo, the newcomer seemed that he could call armies with just the mention of his name.

"Bilbo, may I present the leader of our Company, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf announced.

"Gandalf, I thought you said this place was easy to find. I lost my way... twice," Thorin announced and his voice was a deep rumble, like stones rolling across the mountain side. "So this is the hobbit," he added, measuring Bilbo from head to toes and narrowing his eyes in annoyance. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

That was the moment when the spell broke and Bilbo stiffen in annoyance. Thorin might have been the leader of the Company Gandalf brought into Bag End, but first impressions were clearly not his thing. The Took blood in the hobbit's veins boiled, as it started doing often after the Fell Winter.

"Tell me, hobbit, axe or sword."

Bilbo shot him an icy look. The newcomer might be royalty. He might be a prince, or actually a king in exile – Bilbo had read much about Erebor and its fallen kingdom in his youth. He had also heard much more from Belladonna that he knew exactly who the newcomer was as soon as Gandalf had uttered his name - but he was also rude and Bilbo would not stand hearing a stranger belittling him in his out home.

"Neither," Bilbo answered tensely, thinking dagger and spear at the same time. "Though I'm pretty good at conkers. Unless," here he paused, as if collecting his thoughts and drummed his fingers on a wooden pillar of Bag End. "... you count a four feet tall wolf as a weapon."

A piercing howl echoed in the room as Cypress sprang from the shadows, in a manner not dissimilar to the one she used whenever Lobelia Sackville-Baggins visited. She stopped at her master's side, taunt and ready to attack. Her grey eyes revealed the predator she very much was, although the hand Bilbo placed on her neck kept her steady and at his side.

All dwarves rose to their feet and looked for their weapons, dismayed to remember they had left them at the entrance. Thorin unsheathed his sword in a fluid motion and stood ready to attack and defend.

"Enough!" Gandalf bellowed. "Cypress is Bilbo's companion. She is not a threat to any of you and is to be left alone."

The dwarves complied reluctantly. Dwalin sat down in his chair muttering 'As long as the thing leaves me alone,' while the Durin princes kept throwing wary glances at the wolf.

"I did not know hobbits kept dire wolves as pets," Thorin said with disdain, watching Cypress with narrowed eyes.

"And I did not know dwarf kings were haughty and rude," Bilbo shot back with annoyance.

The air stilled in the room. Several dwarves choked in surprise, while others cowered away waiting for the explosion.

"Excuse me?" Thorin asked with barely restrained anger.

"I accepted all of you in my house as guests, despite the fact that I told Gandalf I am not interested in any kind of adventure that would take me away from the Shire. Your friends barged into my house, ruined my carpets, demolished my pluming and acted all together uncivilized," once started, Bilbo could barely contain his annoyance and his voice continued rising in the stillness of the house, "However, they've been respectful so I said,'it's alright, they're dwarfs, they're supposed to be loud and obnoxious'. You, sir, on the other hand, came into my house and started insulting me from the first moment you stepped foot inside. Why in Eru's name should I help someone who thinks so poorly of me without even knowing me. Moreover, why should I even continued housing you here and not throwing you out as you deserve?"

A loud crash echoed in the room. Stopping his tirade mid-sentence, Bilbo turned towards the other dwarves and noticed the guilty look on Kili's face and the shattered vase at his feet. A sharp claw of pain lodged itself in his heart. That vase had been one of Bungo's courting gifts for Belladonna. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Bilbo merely turned around and left the house with Cypress at his heels. He did not realize the shattered vase actually contained the ruined remains of his spear.

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

Sitting on the bench on the porch, Bilbo forced himself to ignore the thoughts that swirled at the surface of his mind. He chased away words like **cold, pain, blood, orcs, death** and turned his attention towards the night sky. Varda's stars shone brightly that day, a sign, perhaps, that the storm was still far away. The clean, spring air and the shinning stars managed to clear his head and soon enough Bilbo found himself relaxing for the first time that day. At his feet Cypress was still snarling softly, annoyed with the strangers in her house and their behavior.

"Go," Bilbo whispered, petting her fur. "Run. I know you long to do so. I will be fine."

The wolf whined, as if questioning the fact that her master would be all right alone, but at the reassuring nod of Bilbo's head she rose to her feet and disappeared in the dark. A few moments after her departure, footsteps echoed behind Bilbo. The hobbit rose his head, preparing to see Gandalf, but was surprised when Thorin made his appearance and sat down on the bench.

"I apologize, Master hobbit," the dwarf king said in his deep voice, though whether it was sincere or just a prompting of Gandalf's doing, Bilbo could not know. "You accepted complete strangers in your home and treated them to a meal worthy of kings from what Dwalin told me. Yet, you received naught from me, but scorn that was nor prompted in any way."

The tone was sincere enough, but Thorin's eyes spoke volumes about his confidence in Bilbo's abilities. The hobbit was pretty sure that Gandalf had given Thorin no details of his supposed burglar. Not that Bilbo was a thief. Apart from stealing his silver spoons back from Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, he had no experience to talk of. Lobelia on the other hand... that was one able thief, though she would not be caught dead outside the borders of the Shire.

"Also," Thorin added, "Kili apologizes for breaking that vase. He stumbled backwards and knocked it down. My nephew wishes you to know that he will replace it, if possible. He also found these among the shards of the vase," Thorin concluded, placing something that had once been a spear, but was now broken in two parts on the bench.

"Apology accepted," Bilbo answered gruffly, with a trace of ire still lingering in his voice, "Accidents happen, I bare Kili no ill thoughts for the event. The vase was the second courting gifts my father gave to my mother and I am afraid I reacted poorly , upon seeing it shattered. It was just an object, the memories remain," Bilbo said with a sad, wistful voice. He glanced at the broken spear and added in an even sadder voice. "I meant to repair it. Bought a new shaft and all... never had to heart to throw the old one away. My dagger aided me well enough."

Thorin shot him a pondering look. What use would a hobbit have of spears and daggers? Their land was peaceful and green. Hobbits, from what the dwarf king knew, were farmers and gardeners. They grew crops, drank ale and smoked pipe weed. None had a reason to take arms and fight. The wolf was a mystery as well. Bilbo Baggins was a contradiction and Thorin did not know whether he wanted such a person with his Company on a perilous journey or whether he was happy that the hobbit had no desire to leave his comfortable home.

"I think," Bilbo broke the silence, "that it would be courteous to listen to the plan you have in mind, Master Oakenshield. Though, it is unlikely I will change my mind. I have no desire to go on adventures and leave the Shire."

"What do you desire then?" Thorin found himself asking.

"Forgiveness," Bilbo smiled sadly. "And a world free of the Shadow. None of these things can be achieved easily, unfortunately."

Much later, in the dead of the night, the haunting dwarven song made Bilbo change his mind. The dwarfs wanted their home back, a home that had been stolen from them. How was that any different from what he and other hobbits had done during the Fell Winter? Their homes had been attacked and they had fought back and protected them. He would help them reclaim their home, if he could.

The contract weighed heavily in his hands as he stared at the terms and the dotted line where he was supposed to sign. The dwarfs had all fallen asleep in various guest rooms of Bag End; the last ones who were still awake were he and Gandalf.

"I am weary, Gandalf," Bilbo confessed, "Sometimes I feel as if I have lived too long and I am only a middle aged hobbit. I have seen too much and it haunts me at night. The others all managed to forget. They had someone that helped them forget. Come spring they returned to their food and their crops. But me? I am still stuck in a blizzard, I still hear the orcs shriek in the night and see my parents die again and again. I lost everything that day."

With a defeated sigh, he added, "Can you promise me they will be safe? Can you promise the Shire will be safe?"

"I cannot," Gandalf answered truthfully. "The Shadow is stretching farther and farther. I fear that not even the Shire is safe. One thing I can promise you though. The Rangers will not abandon the Shire. At any sign of danger they will fight until their last breath to protect this land."

"I hope that I will not live to regret this," Bilbo said, signing the contract. "I'll go and pack."

The hobbit rose to his feet and headed towards his room. Just as he was about to leave Gandalf's sight completely, the wizard asked in a grave voice:

"Bilbo, what happened to your spear?"

"That's a funny story," the hobbit answered with a fake laugh, not meeting the wizard's eye. "It involves Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, an umbrella and some ruffians. To be honest I was more afraid of Lobelia at that time."

With those words, Bilbo almost ran to his room. He did not want to remember. He did not want to feel that hopelessness again. Yet, the memories returned.

**\- The creature is massive, much larger than anything he has ever seen. It looks like a misshaped mockery of a wolf and it is white, pure white, with a soul drenched in evil. It howls and everything around rattles and shakes. It is a warg, a monster bred in the days of old by an Enemy much stronger than the one of their times.**

**Bilbo is far away from the borders of Hobbiton, in the Bindbole Woods of Northfarthing. He never expected to see such a creature in the woods of the Shire. Cypress is away, hunting who knows where, and he is left to face the monster alone. Fear creeps into his souls, a deep rooted fear that promises never to let him go.**

**His knuckles are white against the brown wood of the spear. All Bilbo knows is that he has to chase the creature away from the Shire no matter what. He attacks, but the wolf like beast manages to evade his hit. A large paw swipes at him, making the spear fly out of his hand and sending him flying in a tree. Dazed and most likely concussed, Bilbo tries to get to his vision swims and he is unable to focus. A crack resounds in the air as the warg steps on the spear, breaking it in two.**

**Suddenly, Cypress springs from the trees and attacks. Her sharp fangs embed themselves in the creature's shoulder, drawing blood. With a pained cry, the warg turns his attention to the smaller wolf, forgetting the wounded hobbit. The warg snarls and attacks. His jaws barely miss Cypress, giving the wolf and opportunity to scratch and bite. Still, she cannot keep avoiding the creature's jaws and claws for long.**

**Bilbo staggers to his feet. His fingers curl around the broken shaft of his spear. He picks it up and, with more strength than he thought he had, stabs the warg in its side. The beast snarls and howls; it rears and throws Bilbo to the ground, the spear his clutched in his hand. With a glint of madness in its eyes, the warg prepares to pounce. However, it is stopped mid air by Cypress whose claws bite deep into its flesh. Outnumbered, it turns and flees into the woods.**

**Though wounded, Bilbo mounts Cypress and rides to the border of the Shire. At the horizon, the warg is still fleeing, heading towards Emyn Uial. –**

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

Hours later, two pieces of a broken shaft were placed on the mantelpiece. The newly repaired spear was strapped to a hobbit's back...

Hours later a wolf returned from her run across the fields of the Shire. She would accompany her master on a perilous journey...

Hours later a story in the making began at last...


	6. Danger on the road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit meh about this chapter unfortunately. I was planning something completely different for it, but my muse did not want to cooperate so it ended up furthering my dwarfs-hobbit dynamis and that's about it. Pertaining to the plot, it's mostly useless, there's nothing really different from the movie :( Sorry, I promise next chapter will be much better.

Knock... knock... knock... knock... the hammer echoed loudly in the silent air of the morning, as Bilbo nailed the sign to his door. His will had already been left in Hamfast's capable hands so all that was left to do was make sure the Sackville-Bagginses kept away from his beloved Bag End.

_"To all my esteemed relatives,"_ Ori read aloud, gazing at the sign with curiosity. _"I have left on an adventure. Hamfast Gamgee has been left to tend to the house and garden in my absence. If I do not return in three years time, Bag End is to be left to Primula and Drogo Baggins ( Prim, be a darling and keep that crazy cousin of mine away from the Brandywine river, he's much too enamored with it ). My books shall be left to Hamfast Gamgee and his family and mother's silver spoons will go to Paladin Took, the Thain of the Shire ( Lobelia Sackville-Baggins keep your grubby paws away from them, they are not yours ). The rest of my possessions are to go to Primula and Drogo. Yours truly, Bilbo Baggins."_

As Ori read the sign, the younger members of the Company crowded around the sign, trying to understand why it was necesary.

"Master Boggins," Kili asked and pointed to the sign, "Surely your relatives are not going to plunder your house while you are away. Why did you put this sign up?"

Bilbo snorted in amusement and shook his head.

"If there's one thing you need to know about hobbits – apart from the fact that we love our food – is that we rarely, if ever leave our homes and go on adventures. An empty hobbit house can be auctioned in the absence of its owner if he gives no signs that he is still alive after a year. Plus, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins is the biggest pest to have ever graced the land of Hobbiton. She's been stealing those spoons, forcing me to steal them back ever since Old Took gave them to my mother. If she gets wind of the fact that I am not home, she'll take my spoons and finally get her paws on Bag End, something I am not keen on allowing. Nope, it's better that Prim gets it in case of my unfortunate demise," he added, before climbing on Cypress' back. The wolf howled playfully and ran in circles around the ponies, startling them and making the dwarves' eyes widen in surprise.

"It allows you to ride it?" one of the dwarves, the one with spiked hair asked in bewilderment. "I've only ever seen orcs and goblins riding wolves and wargs."

Bilbo's eyes darkened slightly at the mention of orcs. His voice held a little edge that went unnoticed to the dwarves when he answered:

"First of all, Master Dwarf, Cypress is a she not an it. Second, yes she allows me to ride her. My mother and I saved her life when she was only a cub and she remembered the deed. Sometimes she leaves for a couple of days, but she always returns."

"Enough chatter," Thorin's voice rang gruffly, "we've wasted enough time. Let's move out."

The dwarfs moved their ponies in formation, with Thorin and Gandalf at the front and Bombur bringing up the rear. Bilbo and Cypress found themselves between the Durin princes and the dwarf with the funny hat – Bofur, if the hobbit remembered correctly. His wolf did not take too kindly to being forced to walk in formation. She whined incesentaly and snarled softly, yet she did not try to run free.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Bilbo petted her fur softly, "I promise I'll let you run soon enough."

Suddenly bags jiggling with coins started flying in the air. Kili caught one, yet Fili did not. Near the front of the column Gandalf caught two such bags and Ori another one.

"What happened?" Bilbo asked Bofur with a surprised voice.

"The lads made bets whether you would change your mind and give up on the quest or not," Bofur smiled as he too caught a bag of coins. "Fili lost as you can see."

Bilbo rolled his eyes in annoyance. Was it really that hard to understand that once he had given his word and signed the contract, there was no turning back? Perhaps dwarfs saw things different than hobbits and were less prone to trust simple words. They needed proof. Nonetheless, he hoped that, as time passed, they would be less suspicious of him.

~~~**~~~~***~~~~

The days passed quickly. The rolling hills of the Shire were replaced by the green lands of Bree and soon enough by the wilderness of the East-West Road. Cypress had given up on her role as mount as soon as the Road started stretching at her feet. She demanded to be left to run free, thus forcing Bilbo to ride a pony. However, she always returned to him as soon as night feel or if she sensed something dangerous on the road. Two times she had warned them in time, before they crossed paths with packs of wolves or hungry bears.

At the end of the fourth day the made camp at the feet of Weathertop. The remains of the Tower of Amon Sûl towered at the top of the hill, fully visible in the light of the full moon. Had their voyage been less urgent and Thorin's mood less sour, Bilbo would have loved nothing more than to climb the hill and see the remains of the fortress. As it was he resigned himself to watching it from the distance, remembering the stories his mother told him of the now fallen kingdom of Arthedain and the lost seeing stones.

Bilbo had fallen asleep near Cypress, her fur and warm body guarding him against the chill better than any blanket. His sleep was restless, plagued by memories of the past where the faces of the dead were replaced by those of whom he now traveled with. When the first shrieks started ringing in the night, both he and his wolf sprang awake. Cypress growled menacingly, tense and eager to run in the night and meet the foes she could hear.

Too many shrieks echoed for the orcs to be just a few stragglers. Seeing the tension in both Bilbo and Cypress' postures and the darkness raging in the hobbit's eyes, Fili and Kili gave up on their plan to try and scare their burglar with horror stories.

"Your wolf knows her enemies well, Master Boggins," Fili said, puffing his pipe. "The orcs are leaving the shadow of the mountains and moving further and further across the land."

"They ride on wargs and ambush travelers that stray in their path," Kili supplied a bit too eagerly. "Leaving no one alive. Just rivers of blood..."

"Do you think it's funny?" Thorin rose from his place, thundering at his nephews. "Do you think an orc raid is to be taken lightly?"

"We meant nothing by it," Fili tried explaining himself, while his brother remained silent, cowed by his uncle's rebuff.

"No you didn't! You know nothing of the world," Thorin snapped at them once more, before turning his back and walking towards the edge of the camp.

Cypress left Bilbo's side and moved to the younger dwarfs, pressing her side against their body as if in reassurance. The startled look on their faces almost made Bilbo smile, but soon they recovered and accepted the comfort the wolf had to give.

"I wish you never have to live through an orc raid," Bilbo told them gently, even though, in his heart he knew the possibility was extremely slim. The two exuberant princes were endearing and he had grown to care about them as he did for his younger cousins.

"Don't mind him, laddie," Balin placed a reassuring hand on Fili's shoulder. "Thorin has most cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain our people were forced into exile. We wondered here and there, laboring in human villages, seeking work where we could. But King Thror was restless… his heart kept longing for The Ancient Dwarf Kingdom of Moria."

The story that Balin told entranced Bilbo. It was dark and tragic, the tale of death and reborn, of war and a Naming-deed. He imagined the story vividly: the orcs almost overpowering the dwarves who wanted to avenge their fallen king... Thorin wielding an oak branch and fighting undaunted, ultimately leading his people to victory. Yet, a bitter victory that was, for the dead were too many and the line of Durin came greatly shaken.

"But there was no feast, no song that night," Balin continued with clouded eyes ", for our dead where beyond the count of grief. We few had survived and I thought to myself that day: There is one who I could follow! There is one I could call King!"

The rest of the Company had woken during the tale and all now looked at Thorin with even greater respect than before. It was clear that, to them, this was the one they would follow to the end of the world and in the Halls of Mandos himself.

~~~**~~~~***~~~~

The business with the trolls could have been avoided entirely, Bilbo mused with annoyance, wrapped in sacks as everyone else and wishing his wolf was not out hunting and the wizard had not disappeared on them at the most inopportune moment. How he had gotten himself in that mess he did not know. The two princes' plans had been terrible, but he thought his very own had a chance of working. Fili distracted the trolls, Kili went for reinforcements and he untied the ponies. It would have worked brilliantly if Fili's idea of a distraction had not been him baiting the dwarves and the other dwarfs hadn't all barged in the clearing, challenging the trolls like lunatics. Now they all stood, tightly wrapped in sacks, waiting to be cooked.

"That's never going to work," Bilbo shouted to the trolls, hopping in his sack. "Really now, have you ever cooked dwarf? That is going to taste terrible!"

"What?" the dwarf who doing the actual cooking squinted. "Who asked you, runt?"

"You can't use sage to cook them. Have you smelled them?" Here Bilbo wrinkled his nose in distaste, ignoring the indignant shouts of the dwarves. "They stink! And their meat is hard... you've got to make it tender first."

"And how do we do that?" the second troll asked in annoyance.

"Well, I could tell you... though," Bilbo stopped mid-sentence as if pondering.

"Though what?" the first troll snapped in annoyance.

"Well, I don't know if it will help you too much. See, these dwarves are infested. They've got parasites in their bellies."

Bilbo glared at the protesting dwarves and finally, understanding his plan, they started approving him... loudly and excitedly.

"I've got parasites as big as my arm!"

"I've got the biggest parasites ever!"

A huge arm closed in to the ground and one of the trolls picked Bilbo up, squeezing him tightly. The monster glared and Bilbo met his gaze unflinching, though his heart was hammering in his chest. It was not the first time Bilbo came face to face with death. After a while, he had learned to fear it less and less.

"I think he's trying to fool us. Let's eat him!"

Suddenly, a tall shaped appeared near them just as the rays of the sun started creeping over the land. The troll threw Bilbo to the ground, turning his attention towards the new source of food. Gandalf, for it was he who had finally arrived to their aid, cracked a boulder in two and made way for the light of the sun to shine over the trolls, turning them all into stone.

Soon enough all sacks were cast away and the dwarves were crowding at the entrance of the cave where the troll hoard had been hidden. The smell was enough to keep Bilbo away. He had no need of treasure and other trinkets.

When Gandalf presented him with a dusty sword, he raised his brows in question.

"I already have a weapon," Bilbo pointed out."Plus, I don't know how to wield a sword."

"I have complete confidence in your spear wielding skills, Bilbo. But, should it break again you need a backup weapon," Gandalf gazed at him with a knowing look and the hobbit understood his story might not be the secret he thought it was. "And remember, Bilbo, true courage is about not knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one."

Bilbo's gaze hardened. Gandalf's lesson came too late. He had taken many lives both during the Fell Winter and afterwards, protecting the Shire. He had no mercy for the orcs that had attacked his home nor for the wolves that remained in the forests of the Shire long after the Fell Winter. Was he a coward then, for sparing no thought to those he killed?

"It glows blue when orcs and goblins are near," Gandalf added and those were the last words he spoke before another wizard barreled in their path riding a sledge driven by rabbits. When the howls started, there was no other thing they could do but run...


	7. The Last Homely House East of the Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support. We're coming to a plot twist here, since I wanted to have a bit of fun with Cypress and Bilbo. I'm hoping it's not too far-fetched, but as I said Bilbo will be different. He is more reckless and braver than in the novel. Also there will be a glimpse in Belladonna's past that may or may not be expanded further in the following chapters. Enjoy!

Howls started echoing in the woods as the two wizards shared news of death and darkness. The howls were unlike those heard in the Shire during the Fell Winter and unlike Cypress' own. With dread pooling into his soul, Bilbo thought back to seasons ago in Emyn Uial and remembered fear and hopelessness freezing his soul.

"That is no wolf," Bofur said, gripping his axe tightly. A twig snapped behind them and the monstrous shape of a warg towered for a moment in the shadows before springing forward. Kili's arrow caught the best mid-leap and a finishing hit from Thorin ended its life.

"Warg scouts," the dwarf king snarled with fury. "This means an orc pack is nearby."

Another howl echoed around them, this one softer, mournful and in warning. On the corpse of the warg scout Cypress landed after leading from the trees, teeth bared in a snarl and blood coating her fur. The wolf was panting softly, her muzzle was red and several angry looking scratches marred her body.

"What in Durin's name is going on here?" Thorin asked the wizard taking in the sight of the wounded wolf and the corpse of the warg.

"You are being hunted. Someone learned about your quest."

"The ponies have fled," Ori announced in a desolate voice. "They've bolted."

Fear and hopelessness flashed briefly on the face of everyone from the Company before Radagast said in a challenging tone.

"I'll draw them out. The will follow my sledge and leave you alone."

"These are Gundabad wargs," Gandalf snapped, annoyance and worry marring his tone. "They will outrun you."

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits," Radagast answered in a mocking tone. "I'd like to see them try."

And off they were... while the Radagast the Brown tried to lure the orcs and wargs away, the Company fled over the moors. Momentary shelter came to them in the form of a large boulder that was able to hide them from sight. However, they were much too exposed and they knew the wizard could not maintain the orcs' attention for long. Cypress fidgeted in place, eager to enter the fray. She was not used to running and hiding.

Painting and snarling came from above the. Claws echoed on the rock and the growls gave the orcs' position away: above their very heads. Thorin looked at Kili, giving him the signal he needed. The archer, tensed and with the bow in position, waited for the oportune moment and aimed. The warg tumbled down the rock, but neither it nor the rider died quietly. Their shrieks and growls might have been enough to give their position away. As they looked around for a new place to run to or hide, they noticed that Gandalf had vanished once more.

Resolute, Bilbo knew what he had to do. With barely a nod between him and his wolf, the hobbit took his spear from its sheath and clutched it tightly. Grim-faced he looked Thorin square in the eyes and said a simple word.

"Run!"

It took Thorin a fraction of a second to understand. His face froze with tension and his jaws clenched tightly together.

"You are mad, hobbit!" he snarled, unwilling to risk the life of one in his Company, even though the burglar had been forced upon them by Gandalf. Yet, a part of him thought that Bilbo's plan might actually work. "You have no way of outrunning them. You've got nary a chance."

"No," Bilbo shook his head and a chilling fire raged in his eyes. His entire posture screamed death and vengeance. It was as if he had completely transformed and the gentle being of Bag End was long lost. "But I'm willing to bet I can outsmart them. We're wasting time," the hobbit snapped. "You're wasting time," he pointed at the dwarves and mounted Cypress. "Cypress can find her way back to you once we make them lose their trail. She's smart, she can make us disappear," he added with determination.

"Do you even know what you're up against?", asked Thorin, horror and respect flashing briefly on his face.

"Yes," Bilbo said resolutely and his smile was twisted and determined. "Now for Eru's sake run! You've got a kingdom to recover. You can't die here."

"Don't you dare die either, hobbit," Thorin growled at him as he ushered his Company to run. "I still need a burglar."

"Yes, your Majesty!"

With a mocking half-bow, Bilbo nudged Cypress forward and left the shelter they had found. As soon as he came into the open three mounted orcs appeared from the trees and rode their wargs hot on their tails. His wolf howled with fury and got him close enough to the nearest orc. Bilbo drove his spear deftly in the skull of the warg making the creature stumbled and its rider fly from its back. The second orc threw a dagger at him that missed Bilbo by inches. The orc was too far behind for the spear to reach him. Gripping Cypress tight with his heels, Bilbo moved the spear from one hand to another and took one of the daggers he had brought from home. Turning on the wolf's back he threw the small blade. It flew in an arch and hit the orc in the shoulder giving him a shallow wound. It wasn't enough to stop it, not by a long shot, but the flash of pain and the momentary shock made the rider stumble in his saddle and slow down.

More orc riders appeared from the forest and behind the rocks. They sprang across the plains and started riding after him. With a pang, Bilbo understood he had no chance of outrunning or even outsmarting them. They were just too many. Cypress doubled her efforts, running faster than ever and trying to save her master again. Just as they found themselves cornered on all sides, a horn rang and hooves echoed on the ground. Arrows flew true all around Bilbo and the orcs met their end at the bows and swords of the Elven folk.

The patrol that appeared as if from nowhere was small. No more than a dozen elves, riding horses and garbed in glittering armor stopped at the sight of the hobbit and his weary wolf. Their leader, a tall elf with dark hair, removed his helmet. His smile was grim and his eyes grave as he asked in wonder.

"Seldom we see a hobbit away from the borders of the Shire. More so a hobbit riding a dire wolf and being chased by orcs. Tell me, Master Hobbit, what brings you so far from your lands?"

"I was travelling with Gandalf the Grey and his Company, Master Elf," Bilbo answered in a courteous tone, wondering if this was one of the elves his mother had met in her journeys. "The orcs attacked our party and since our ponies bolted and only I had a mount, I offered to chase them away. As for mine and Cypress' tale I fear it is a long one."

"A curious name you have chosen for your companion, yet perhaps, should I come to hear your tale it shall make sense. I did not know Gandalf was in the vicinity, but I am sure he will not pass Imlandris without seeking me out, if only for a greeting. Will you join us, there, Master hobbit?"

Bilbo paused a little. He was sure Thorin would fight against the idea of seeking aid in Imlandris. However, Gandalf had told him on the road that whatever happened and no matter how annoyed the dwarf king would be, their Company would stop in Imlandris. They had answers to seek there. The hobbit had simply been unaware that they were so close to the elven city. Now Gandalf's sudden disappearance made sense. He was probably seeking one of the hidden paths to the city as had been his plan all along. The hobbit winced, foreseeing the long speech he would have to listen from the wizard about endangering his life foolishly.

'It's not my fault he does not share his plans', Bilbo thought to himself then added outloud. "With pleasure, my Lord. Long I have longed to see the Hidden Valley as my mother painted wondrous tales about it. Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"It will be my pleasure," the elf smiled, more warmly this time."Elrond Peredhel, at yours!"

Bilbo paled in surprise. The Lord of the Hidden Valley was the one who had saved his life and was leading him towards Imlandris. That was a turn of events no one could have foreseen.

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

Whatever measure of respect Bilbo had gained by driving the orcs away from the Company and actually living to tell the tale was instantly lost in the moment when he arrived escorted by the elf patrol. The elves had been cordial and invited the dwarfs to dinner and a night spent under in a safe heaven. However, the Company complained all the while and found fault in every little thing.

"They are in the middle of a Mahal forsaken valley. How are they keeping this dratted city protected."

"Look at all this water. If we take a wrong step we might drown in it."

"Soddy elves. I bet they don't even have ale."

Bilbo on the other hand was ecstatic. The entire city was an incredible work of art that shone with beauty and elegance. The arched columns glistened in the sun and the surrounding nature spread an aura of peace and warmth. Even the river that the dwarfs cursed so added to the charm of the place. Bilbo had imagined the Hidden Valley many times as his mother told him tales about it, but his imagination did not justice to the place. It was much more than he could have ever dreamed.

Elrond's attendant showed them to a wing of rooms. Had it been to the dwarfs they would have camped in a hall or something just as ludicrous, but Gandalf had placed his foot down and they had been forced to accept the elves' hospitality, as much as it pained them to do so. Bilbo, on the other hand, could not be gladder.

Oin heralded everyone – except Thorin – in one of the rooms which he had turned into a makeshift healing chamber.

"You're next laddie," Oin beckoned Bilbo over. The healer of the Company had Bilbo take his shirt off, despite the hobbit's protests that he was not hurt. He had several dark bruises in the form of large fingers and a big bump to the head from the impact with the ground after the troll had thrown him down. In the wild run across the moors one of the orcs had managed to nick him with a flying dagger on the shoulder. His upper leg also held two bleeding gashes, but he did not know what had caused them.

"Not hurt, he says," Oin grumbled as he applied his ointments to Bilbo's wounds. "You're probably one of those folk who say they're not hurt even when they cannot move from pain and injury. Nevertheless you were lucky to escape with your life, lad. What in Mahal's name possessed you to run across the moors beckoning wargs to follow you, I shall never now." With a piercing look, Oin added. "You do not owe us anything and want nothing in exchange. Most of us wonder what is actually driving you along. Nonetheless, that wolf of yours is something special."

"She is," Bilbo glanced fondly at Cypress who had already been tended to by elves as they knew animals better than any other race and was sleeping soundly at the feet of a chair. He made no mention of what Oin had said before as if the thinly veiled question had eluded him completely. "She truly is."

"What I am curious to know," Dwalin interfered with a gruff voice, "is how you trained her. She is as wild as they come, you can see the wilderness in her eyes. Yet she follows and comes when beckoned as any hound would."

"Cypress has a mind of her own, master Dwalin," Bilbo shrugged. "My mother healed her when she was a cub and she got it in her head that she was bound to us. She came when our need was great and aided us as much as she could."

He would say no more of that tale, at least until he was strong enough to look upon the past without grief and regret. The room fell into silence as Oin continued his bustling and healing. Soon, most members of the Company were mended on resting in their rooms...~

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

The Last Homely Home made Bilbo feel more peaceful even than the Shire. There was an aura of serenity that engulfed the elven settlement and made everyone fell less weary and welcomed ( even the dwarfs, although they would be caught dead before admitting it ). As soon as he had been able to slip away unnoticed, Bilbo had left the Company and wandered off. The gardens of the city were lush and beautiful, perfect for relaxation. The whisper of the fountains helped him forget the tiredness of the road so Bilbo simply sat down on a bench and closed his eyes, sighing in bliss.

Soft footsteps approached him. Opening his eyes, he was startled to see Lord Elrond sit down next to him.

"Not with your companions?" Elrond asked. "I would have thought they would be thrilled to have you back safe and sound."

"I was able to slip away," Bilbo answered with a smile. "They should not miss me for the moment. Last I saw them most were enjoying the possibility to rest on a soft bed."

"I see," the elf lord answered with a cryptic smile. "I had wondered why you seemed so familiar. Then I remembered another hobbit, a lady of the Took family that used to accompany Gandalf in his shorter journeys. Last I had seen her she was off to marry a childhood friend of hers, a hobbit called Bungo Baggins," the elf added with a softer look. "Belladonna was dear to us. There are many here who will tell you glowing stories about her. I was saddened when Gandalf brought news of her death during the Fell Winter."

"She spoke most fondly of Rivendell. Of all the places she had seen, my mother used to say this was the place she would have loved to live in had she not had the Shire to come back to."

"Your mother would have been welcomed to stay here had she wished so," Elrond replied with fondness. "I would like to expand the same courtesy to you now. Though, if I am not mistaken, once a word is given, no hobbit will take it back."

"Indeed it is so," Bilbo nodded. "Though, if I live to see the end of this quest, I would very much like to return to your wondrous city."

"It would be my pleasure to welcome you back. I will take my leave now. It appears your Company has noticed your disappearance," Elrond added with an amused smile and turned his head in the direction of Thorin marching up to the bench, a tense and annoyed expression on his face.

'What have I done now?' Bilbo thought to himself as he watched Elrond quietly disappear in the gardens of his city just as Thorin stopped in front of the hobbit.

"It appears that my nephews had no reason to fear for your well-being," Thorin scowled darkly.

"The elves have not yet kidnapped me and hid me in a closet if that was what they were fearing," Bilbo deadpanned. "I know there are deep-seated hatred and mistrust between the elves and the dwarfs, but to my kind, the few elves that hobbits have met have been nothing but courteous and polite. "

"The elves deserted us when our need was most dire," Thorin said fiercely. "They forsook our alliance and watched as our city burned."

"Yet, these are different elves," Bilbo pointed out. "Elves alongside whom your ancestors fought during the Last Alliance, master Oakenshield. They bear little ties to Mirkwood or its king. It was Thranduil who abandoned you not the entire elf race."

"I will not show kindness to any of these tree loving fools," Thorin seethed, "time and time again as history moved onward we have been shown that there is no chance at friendship between our races. My grandfather made a mistake to trust them. I will not repeat it."

"Then you will doom yourself to a kingdom without allies," Bilbo ended up losing his temper. "Who will you turn to for aid if the Shadow keeps stretching? Erebor shall be weak in the beginning, after it will be restored. Your people are scattered in all corners of Middle Earth. Time will pass until they return to the mountain. Will you protect your kingdom with the help of twelve dwarfs?"

"And what would a halfling know of these matters?" Thorin asked, his voice laded with scorn and anger. "You who live in that prosperous little country of yours, eat seven meals a day and have never seen a day of darkness in your life. Who are you to talk of the Shadow?"

"Do not presume to know me! You know nothing of us and what we have been through. A king who assumes to know everything for mere glimpses he is give is a poor one." Bilbo answered in a harsh tone and turned on his heels, walking away. He might have crossed boundaries he should not have even approached, but what was done was done. Apparently, he had burned all bridges with his last remark.

Bilbo forced himself to relax... Thorin knew nothing of him besides the fact that he had a wolf and was passable with a spear. He did not owe Bilbo respect or recognition. Yep, the dismissal hurt seeing as he had aided them as much as he had been able to.


	8. A promise sworn is an oath kept

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crow, I actually wrote 28 pages on this story so far O_O I'm getting the feeling it will end up longer than Only time will tell ( which is not good, not good at all XD ). Still, I'll see where my muse leads me. I'm sorry for the delay in update, but I was at the seaside and the internet was incredibly slow. I'm going to make it up to you I promise. Also try not to kill me after you read this chapter. I swear I had my reasons and not all is as it seems XD

Days in Rivendell passed too quickly for Bilbo's liking. After his conversation with Thorin, he had made sure to steer clear of the dwarf king's path. Whenever their eyes met by accident, the scorching glare he received was more than enough to convince him of his worth in the dwarf's eyes. In a place as vast as Imlandris making oneself scarce was easy, so Bilbo spend his days discovering the place his mother had cherished as much as the Shire. The almost endless library had left the hobbit in awe and Bilbo had even dragged a reluctant Ori to spend long hours with him surrounded by books and discovering stories of ages past.

While the young scribe read stories of his ancestors, Bilbo's head got filled with stories of the Second Age, of Sauron the Deceiver and the Rings of Power, of The Last Alliance and the death of Isildur... He poured over the tales of the First Age, discovered the Ballad of Beren and Luthien and lost himself in the books that kept him from dwelling upon the journey he would have to continue. He knew that he would not be able to hide forever, that one day they would have to leave, but for the moment he was content.

Bilbo had been glad to see that his daring dash across the moors had been the key that broke the ice between him and most of the Company. While Kili and Fili had been friendly before, now they were downright ecstatic and did their best to spend time with the burglar. They begged for stories of the Shire and asked again and again how did it feel to ride a wolf. Bofur was slowly becoming a very good friend as well. Bilbo admired the dwarf's optimism and wit. He found himself laughing more and more especially when he was in the company of the younger dwarves or the miner.

Even Dwalin begrudgingly accepted Bilbo as a member of the Company. That is not to say he did so without his usual brusqueness. However, one day the dwarf started giving him tips for wielding the sword Gandalf had found in the troll cave.

"Yer decent enough with that spear of yours – confounded elvish weapon that it is – but yer this close to poking someone's eyes out with that letter opener," Dwalin had said one day, after seeing Bilbo in the training court.

That had been the start of several gruesome sword practices that had left Bilbo unable to do more than take a bath and crawl in a bed afterwards. However, his balance had improved and he was able to do a bit more than simply wave his sword around. Moreover, he got to know Dwalin a little better and spotted the way the dwarf's eyes wandered every time a certain young scribe was in the vicinity ( not to say said young scribe's eyes did not wander as well ).

Cypress too used the time spent in Rivendell to recover. Her wounds healed, leaving nothing more but scars and barely grown patches of fur on her body. She grew strong again and ran wild in the forest surrounding Imlandris. But, a change had come over her. A longing started festering in her soul; she had tasted freedom as she had never had before and the Wild had called to her. It reminded the wolf that she was a child of the Wilderness, a child of danger and death, of blood and tears. She was not meant to shield, she was meant to hunt.

Though she tried to ignore it, the whispers in her heart grew strong and soon she was restless to leave, to join her Master on his quest again and forget about the lure of the Wild and its hold over her heart. She was old now, even though her Master had done his best to ignore the passage of time. She had been luckier than most to have lived so long; she would be luckier still to see this journey to its end.

Years ago she had promised to be by her Master's side; now, as her life slowly ran to its end, she would not forsake him for the taste of freedom and blood. Still, the longing was hard to ignore and she knew it might overwhelm her despite her struggles.

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~

The time for their departure came at last. Gandalf had sent them word that the White Council was about to commence, therefore it was time for them to leave, as quickly as possible. The wizard was sure that their quest was not seen with kind eyes by the Wise of Middle Earth.

"Her hair was like spun gold," Gloin's voice rang in the room where they had all assembled. Bilbo noticed with amusement that the dwarf's eyes were widened in awe as he told of the encounter with the mysterious elf. "And her eyes like the brightest mithril. I do not know who she was, but she came with the party from the Golden Woods, or so one of the elves said."

"The say a great sorceress lives in those Woods," Thorin said with disdain when he entered the room, a scowling look plastered on his face, "an elf witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell and are never seen again. Forget about any member of the Lorien convoy you might have seen!"

"If no one is ever seen again, then who tells the stories?" Bilbo asked with a raised eyebrow and annoyance written plainly on his face. Thorin's stubbornness and his desire to see evil in all elves sometimes reminded him of the tantrums his younger cousins threw. Lord Elrond had been nothing but courteous and had even deciphered the map they all needed so badly.

Thorin did not answer, but his glare spoke volumes. The wall that had been built between them with Bilbo's words was still standing strong. Without another word, the dwarf king motioned everyone to leave the rooms.

The road through the mountains was difficult and steep. Sharp rocks jutted from the mountain, cutting Bilbo's feet and making Cypress move much more gingerly in order to avoid hurting her paws. The sunrise above Rivendell had been the last beautiful thing they had seen for soon the weather started worsening and rain poured over their heads. The High Pass did little to shield them from wind and rain; soon they were all soaked to the bone, shivering in the chillness of autumn.

On their fourth day in the mountain pass, the weather turned very sour very quickly. The sky darkened as never before, thunder and lightning striking around them. Cypress walked with her teeth bared and her fur standing on end. Bilbo knew his wolf had always disliked storms, but there was nothing he could do now to shield her from them.

Then the stone giants came...

Bilbo was sure there was much to be seen in the Wild. But he had never expected to see moving stones. Orcs, goblins, wargs, wolves, Eru knew what other creatures, yes! Mountain that sprang from their roots and startled battling? No way! Boulders started flying in the air and rocks rained down the mountain, almost sweeping the members of the Company off their feet.

"Hold on! Keep close to the mountain!" Thorin cried from up front and the others moved as one, huddling next to the mountain. Bilbo guided Cypress next to him, one of his hands holding tightly to her fur, as the other grasped the mountain side.

"I never believed the legends were true," Bofur gasped in shock next to Bilbo as they all dashed forward when the opportune moment came. "Heard about 'em as a lad, but never believed!"

"Well, now you get to see them!" Bilbo glared seeing Bofur's excited grin. The wind picked up and howled dreadfully around them, but all they could do was move and hope. The wolf pressed to the hobbit's side, her ears flat against her head. She whined pitifully just as another giant started moving from the mountain and they found themselves soaring in the air, clinging to the giant's knees.

"Jump!" a voice roared over the storm and everyone ran forward, not stopping to make any sense, just moving out of instinct. Rocks parted and everyone was jumping from one place to another, trying to keep together, trying to move one, trying not to be smashed to pieces.

"Fili!" Kili's voice rang as his brother got separated from him when the mountain moved again. Next to him Nori gave a strangled cry of "Ori!". The young scribe and the prince were getting further and further away, when suddenly a punch aimed at the stone giant from his kindred made him turn on his heels and crash his fist across the mountain side, giving the two the opportunity to return to the Company.

Suddenly, the giant they were clinging too started falling towards the mountain. Bilbo yelped in fright seeing as they were hurled toward solid rock. A sharp piece of rock was jutting forward and Ori was going to fall against it. Letting go of Cypress for just a moment, Bilbo pushed the dwarf aside, towards safety. Both he and the wolf crashed against the mountain side. The water made the rock slippery and they hurdled backwards. Bilbo barely grabbed the edge of the mountain in time, but next to him Cypress slipped and fell in the abyss with a mournful howl.

"Nooooo!" the cry that rang in the night was gut wrenching and painful to listen to. For a moment Bilbo thought of letting go, of following his wolf down in the darkness. However, strong arms hoisted him up and brought him to safety. He heard Thorin's rumbling voice pressing them to move on and understood it was the dwarf king who had saved him. But the pain was too strong and he was too numb to do anything, but follow the others. Putting one step in front of the other was already too much of a chore. When finally they stumbled in a cave, bruised and scared, but otherwise alive, Bilbo slid down the wall and hugged his knees, huddling in the shadows. Hiding his face in his arms, he tried to feel anything, but the numbness in his soul. He had lost the last link he had with his parents... he had lost the one who had been by his side unconditionally for the last two decades. And it was all his fault...

Tears started streaming down his face. A sharp claw of pain lodged itself in his chest. He choked back his sobs, afraid to let them out and shatter the silence that had settled over the cave. These dwarves had lost their home and their kin, yet they pressed on; he was reduced to a useless mass of tears at the death of his companion.

"There, there, laddie," Balin's voice soothed him. "Let it out. She was your companion, ye can mourn her."

A murmur of agreement rang in the cave. Fili and Kili pressed themselves against him on both sides, trying to cheer him up or at least support him.

"Thank you, Master Baggins," both Nori and Dori said at the same time. "We saw what you did for our brother."

Bilbo stole a few moments for himself... he allowed himself to grieve and then took a shuddering breath.

"I'm all right," he choked out and wiped his tears away. "I never thought..." he left the idea hanging and with a determined sigh, he steeled himself and added again. "I'm all right."

An arm was placed on his shoulder, with unusual gentleness. Bilbo looked up and met Thorin's gaze. There were sadness and regret swirling in the blue gaze. The dwarf king said nothing, yet his supportive silence battered at the wall that had been raised between them. One day they might even understand each other...

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~

Silence fell over their camp and most of his companions fell prey to slumber. Bilbo remained awake, thinking of Cypress, his soul shattering piece by piece as each second that passed reminding him that she was not by his side. Suddenly, a bright glow caught his attention. At his side, his sword was glowing blue. With horror he bolted to his feet and cried out:

"Orcs!"

The Company woke up as one in an instant. The moment they were on their feet the ground under them split open and they tumbled into darkness. They were falling down twisted tunnels, getting deeper and deeper in the heart of the mountain. His sword glowed even brighter as they continued falling, ultimately ending up in a wooden basket of some sort. Hundreds of the foul creatures had surrounded them, taking their weapons and forcing them to march forward, down a shaky wooden bridge. Everywhere they looked they were surrounded by goblins. Thousands and thousands of those creatures were filling every crevice of the mountain. On a crudely carved wooden throne stood what had to be the most disgusting creature Bilbo had ever seen: The Goblin King. They were pushed forward and their weapons thrown unceremoniously on the ground.

They were searched again until Bilbo had lost his two hidden daggers. His sword and spear had already been taken in the first place.

"If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk," the Gobling King roared. "Start with the youngest!"

Thorin stepped forward; in that moment Bilbo caught a glimpse of the one that would one day be King Under the Mountain if their venture was successful. He stood unbowed under the taunts of the goblins and remained a shield between the creatures and the rest of the Company.

A eager goblin pushed Bilbo from behind, making him loose his cover behind the much bulkier Gloin. The hobbit stumbled forward, but glared, hiding his fear under a mask of steal. Memories of wolves and wind were howling in his ears. The stench of blood and burned wood filled his nostrils, yet he stood unmoving before the eyes of the Goblin King.

"What do we have here?" the creature boomed with laughter. "A Shire rat," rows of putrid teeth were shown as the goblin smiled wickedly. "I remember your little rats crying in fear in the winter. On their knees, begging to be spared... their blood smearing the ground of that fat little country of yours."

The Company stiffed and bristled with anger. None knew what the hobbits had gone through during the Fell Winter.

"I remember much differently," Bilbo answered with an almost feral smile, his blue eyes glittering like the ice in the depth of the mountain. "I remember my kin's makeshift weapons stained by orc and goblin blood. Your death cries as we did not stand idle and let out country be taken. The light dimming in your eyes as the Rangers and their swords skewered you in the dead of the night."

The Goblin King roared with fury.

"You'll make a pretty sight in my dungeons as I break your bones!"

Perhaps more would have come out of that threat if a curious goblin had not unsheathed Thorin's sword at that exact moment. The creatures all stepped backwards, even their King.

"I know that sword! The Biter! The Sword that sliced thousands of necks."

The goblins turned on them with whips and sticks. A few well placed hits brought Bilbo to his knees, crying in pain. His cheek had been sliced open and his back felt as though it was on fire. Struggling to his feet, the hobbit jagged a knee in a goblin's stomach. It did not do much good... around him, Bilbo saw the rest of the Company fighting as much as they could without their weapons.

Suddenly, with a wave of light and a white blaze washed over them. Its power brought all to their knees and through the curtain of light stepped a very familiar figure: Gandalf.

'Take up arms!' the wizard cried, 'Fight! Fight!'

The Company scrambled to their weapons. Bilbo managed to get his hands on his sword and spear, but his daggers were lost in the commotion. The battle that ensured was fueled by pure adrenaline only. They were fighting tooth and nail to escape from the goblins' lair, to leave everything behind them. Thorin and Gandalf were forging a path through the sea of goblins, while the others were following behind. Bilbo was fighting besides Ori and Nori, the three of them bringing the rear.

Finally, when Bilbo felt as if he would not be able to run another step, sunlight poured through an opening and all of them made it outside. They ran down the mountainside and stopped once they were sure they had not been followed.

Bilbo leaned on a tree and took big gulps of breath. They were outside, they were safe, they were... he was in so much trouble, he thought to himself when he saw the blazing glare Thorin was aiming his way.

"What in Mahal's name were you thinking?" the Dwarf King's voice roared with fury. "Baiting the Goblin King as you did! Do you have a death wish, burglar?"

Bilbo was about to reply with a scorching remark of his own, when a blood curling howl echoed in the air followed closely by two more. A warg pack was on their trail.

"Out of the frying pan," Thorin muttered.

"And into the fire," came Gandalf's remark. "Run!"

Bilbo ran, framed by Kili and Fili who were making sure not to lose him from sight. The ground shook behind them as clawed paws were heard approaching closer and closer. Sharp teeth bit close to Bilbo's shoulder and the hobbit turned on his feet and jammed his sword in the creature's snout. He continued running as more beasts sprang from the trees, trying to cut off their path.

Bilbo's spear was in his hand before he even made the conscious decision to use it. The elven sword was back in his sheath; wielding the spear came as second nature to him. The wood was familiar in his hands and the spear head got driven in a creature's temple.

"Up in the trees!" Gandalf shouted. "Quickly!"

Balancing the spear in one hand Bilbo ran to the nearest tree and realized in dismay that there was no chance to climb it. He was simply too small! Before he had any time to think what to do, Nori jumped to the lowest branch and swept Bilbo in his arms with surprising ease.

"Not going to let you behind after you saved my brother's life!" the dwarf said with determination.

Mere moments later, wargs swarmed the ground under them, howling with fury and trying to reach their prey. Then, besides the orcs that followed their mounts of choice, another being stepped into the clearing.

A pale orc astride a white warg… with a sharp intake of breath Bilbo remembered the Bindbole Woods and coming near to death. Then he had had Cypress to save him; now he had no one.

"Azog," Thorin said in a strangled voice. "It's not possible!" Curses in Khuzdul rang everywhere as Bilbo realized both of them were hunted by their own demons.

Suddenly the wargs started attacking the trees with fury. Bilbo almost tumbled out of his tree, before the tree lurched forward and started falling.

"Ready to jump, Master Baggins?" Nori asked grimly as the tree started falling and crashed into the nearby tree. Bilbo was flung from his branch and barely caught another one before that tree too started falling. The process repeated two or three more times – Bilbo lost count – before all the company found itself perched in the tree where Gandalf had taken shelter. The attack halted for a few moments as Azog laughed something in that vile tongue of his, before it got renewed with even more strength than before.

Gandalf started lighting pine cones and tossing them at the wargs. The flames soon started spreading in the entire forest as all of them grabbed the flaming cones the wizard was making and tossed them at the wargs, setting their fur on fire. Just when things were starting to look brighter, the tree they were sitting in started toppling backwards, barely hanging above the abyss that spread at their feet.

Thorin, fire blazing in his eyes, made his decision on the stop. Moving from the safety of the tree, he charged with a mighty cry. Bilbo watched in horrified fascination as the white warg leaped towards Thorin, its claws almost grazing the dwarf prince's back. Azog turned his mount around and raised his mighty mace that got met by Orcrist in mid air. However, the orc's strength was greater and Thorin was sent falling backwards. Dwalin cried out the dwarf king's name, but the sound was lost over the howl of the white warg. The creature's huge jaws closed around the dwarf's body. The dwarf managed to free himself, but his strength had all but deserted him.

With a desperate scream, Bilbo jumped from the tree and ran forward. His sword met that of another orc just as the creature moved to end Thorin's life. With strength he did not know he possessed, Bilbo parried one hit and ducked another, finding a weak spot in the orc's stance. His elven sword was driven in the creature's stomach and the orc gurgled and fell backwards.

Now it was only Bilbo standing between Thorin and the Pale Orc...


	9. In darkness, hope springs unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... I'm still alive. Good! *grin* I might not be at the end of this fic, but what will be will be. The reason Cypress fell in the last chapter was so I could write this chapter. I needed her to have the spotlight for a moment and wanted to get some original plot twists going. The OCs from this chapter are inspired by Lord of the Rings online. If you play it, you might remember Ceraldine as one of the NPCs from Buckland. Also in the game Bree is in danger from ruffians and goblins/orcs ( can't actually remember which ones were in Bree ). Sooo... the idea for this chapter was given by the game.

Her howl echoed in the mountains as Cypress pummeled to the ground. Had she been a human, she would have closed her eyes and shrieked in fear. As a wolf, she merely howled desperately and stretched her legs forward, desperate to stop her fall. Stones and shards of rock bit in her paws and made her whine in pain. Suddenly, her fall was stopped short and the wolf felt the air get knocked out of her chest. She staggered to her feet, her whole body aching and she noticed she was standing over the abyss, with nothing more than a small, wooden ledge separating her from sure death. It must have been a bridge once, connecting the two sides of the mountain through the underground, but now it was nothing more than a ruined plank of wood, barely hanging in the air.

The ledge continued further, going inside the mountain, turning into a narrow and dark tunnel. Moving gingerly, feeling as if her paws were on fire, Cypress stepped inside the mountain. She could not smell her Master anywhere nor his hairy companions. Instead, the mountain smelled rancid and coppery. It reminded her of death and blood. The wolf moved warily, her sensitive ears hearing loud jeers and shrieks somewhere, far away.

The stench grew stronger as she moved towards the innards of the mountain. Death and decay filled her nostrils. Wherever she looked, the stones were stained by blood, human blood that made her instinct roar to life. A desire to hunt and kill filled her entire being, but she focused on moving past it, on remaining true to herself. It was a desire she had felt back during the Fell Winter, but then she had been able to quench her thirst for blood with the orcs that attacked her home. Now, it was getting harder and harder, as she moved forward, to not give in to her baser instincts.

At one point she came to a crossroad. The tunnel divided in two branches and none held the smell of dwarf or her Master. She did not know where to go. One road smelled like goblins and might be the key to satisfy her desires, but her ears told her their number was great and an attack would most likely get her killed. The other road held the smell of sickness and blood, alongside that of goblin and something almost familiar. It was not the smell of grass and sunshine, the scent of the Shire, but something close to it. She felt the scent of trees and the road, of horses and inns. Sobbing filled her ears when she listened closer, the sobbing of someone small and helpless. Making up her mind, Cypress moved forward, choosing the road that led away from the goblins.

The tunnel got narrower and narrower as she started descending in the heart of the mountain until Cypress was forced to crutch in order to be able to advance. The sobbing got louder as she progressed and the wolf could smell salt in the air. Moreover, the cracking of whips rang in the darkness and more than once hissing sounds of pain echoed. Goblins were ahead, not many, but enough for her to satisfy her thirst for a hunt. Goblins that were hurting someone.

When she came to the end of the tunnel, Cypress stopped and waited in darkness. In front of her a bigger cave opened, illuminated by a single torch. Her blue eyes glittered with fury when she saw her prey, three goblins cackling madly and whipping their prisoners. Two of the goblins were jeering and cackling, while the third was the one conducting the actual torment.

A human who carried the scent of the Road and horses was tied to a wooden pole in the middle of the room, the main victim of the goblins' cruelty. Two small children, one still young enough to smell like cow milk and the other not much older were huddled in a corner, ropes binding their wrists and feet. They were the one sobbing uncontrollably, probably for their mother. Cypress could not understand their cries, but she remembered a time long ago when she too had cried for her mother while hurt and in pain. She also recalled her mother's eyes dimming as life left her when the orcs stroke her down... her mournful howls as she begged her only surviving cub to run and never return because orcs and goblins loved nothing more than the meat of young children and small cubs.

With a growl threatening to leave her throat, Cypress prepared to attack. She almost did not notice a fourth person tied next to the children. A small female, no taller than his Master, was trying her best to sooth the children. She was a hobbit, but smelled all wrong. She was not sun-kissed as Cypress' Master, the scent of flowers and grass surrounding her. Instead, she smelled of hay and the Road, of a river and something old and dangerous.

When the third goblin stopped whipping the human and turned his back to the opening in the mountain, Cypress took her chance. She moved outside the tunnel and using the shadow to her advantage, leaped. Her fangs tore in the goblin's throat and her claws shredded his back. The creature fell dead with a gurgled scream. The other two shrieks in fear and fury, before grabbing knives and turning towards the wolf. Cypress bared her fangs and with a furious howl circled the other two. It would have been easier had her Master been there to aid her with his spear. In his absence she had to deal with them by herself. In the blink of an eye she jumped to the nearest goblin. The creature lost his knife when he was flung to the ground. Razor sharp claws bit into his chest and left him a bleeding mess on the ground. The last surviving one shrieked with fury and attacked the wolf. His knife nicked Cypress' ear, but she moved fast enough to avoid more serious injury. Suddenly, just as she was about to spring again, the goblin fell to the ground, a dagger sticking out of his back.

Behind him, grim-faced and with her hands coated with black blood, the female hobbit stared with disgust at the goblin. Her wrists were bloodied and thorn, but somehow she had managed to escape her binds. She gazed at the wolf without fright and approached her undaunted.

"Stay away form it, little mistress Ceraldine," the man cried out. "It's feral. It's going to tear into you as well."

"No, she isn't" the hobbit said with a sage look. "You aren't going to hurt me, are you? You killed the goblins to save us. Cousin Bilbo taught you well."

The wolf cocked her head sideways, not understanding the sounds coming out of the hobbit's mouth. She knew few words, those she had learned from her Master. However, she recognized his name in what the hobbit had said and approached her.

"You're a good girl, Cypress," the hobbit said with tears in her eyes and to the shock of the man threw her arms around the wolf's neck and hugged her close. The proximity to the hobbit brought a memory forth in the wolf's mind. It was the first spring after the Winter and many hobbits had crowded around her petting her and hugging her. This one had smelled like flowers and sunshine then and had been very small. Recognizing her, Cypress licked her face.

"Oh, you know me, don't you? You clever, clever girl!" the hobbit cried and released the wolf. Moving back to the children she used the dagger to free the children. "There, there little ones. Everything will be all right now. Come with Ceraldine!"

The two children stumbled after her, their fists grasping her skirt tightly. The youngest almost fell over and the hobbit took him in her arms and bounced him on her hip while using her free hand to cut the ties of the man.

"Do you know this beast?" the man asked warily, not keen at all to move next to the wolf. His fear was palpable in the air, and Cypress wondered what it was about her that inspired more fear than three goblins.

"She's not a beast, Amdir" Ceraldine chided him and had her hands been free, she would have placed them on her hips. "She is my cousin Bilbo's companion. Why, when I was just a young lass and the Fell Winter came, Cypress here protected all of us. I was living in Hobbiton at that time, close to cousin Bilbo's Bag Enda and I saw her fight in the orcs and wolves in the dead of the night. That was before the Rangers came to our aid."

Cypress watched the exchange with curiosity and growled softly to get their attention. The goblins would come before long and they had to leave. Two more tunnels were stretching in the mountain from the cave. One, the wolf knew, led to the mass of creature that she had smelled before. The second held the scent of fresh air and wood. She started moving in that direction, butting Ceraldine with her head to make her follow.

"The lady has spoken," Ceraldine smiled and the two children giggled through their tears. "The exit is that way."

The man followed, albeit reluctantly. How could they trust a wild wolf? He had been too young at the time of the Fell Winter and had not been able to join the other Rangers in protecting the Shire. However, none of those who had returned from the protecting its borders spoke of a wolf protecting the hobbits' country.

Still, the hobbit appeared to know it and he would have to trust the little missus' judgement for now. After two days in captivity they had learned to trust each other regardless of race and previous prejudice that still lingered despite the aid given by Rangers to the Shire folk.

The tunnel appeared to be winding further and further inside the mountain, yet even those with less sensitive noses were able to sense the shift in scent. They were able to feel fresh air. Water started dripping somewhere and soon they came to a large, underground cavern. A wide, dark lake spread in its middle and water dripped from the walls of the mountain. The eldest child tripped over a rock and fell. His knees scrapped across the rock and his hand came over something round. With wide eyes he picked it up and noticed a ring on a string chain. The child staggered back to his feet, keeping the ring tightly in his hand.

"What is it precioussssss," a hissing sound came from the darkness and two large, pale eyes gleamed in the shadows. "Is it crunchy? Is it tassssty?"

A creature, ashen in color and almost spider-like in movements, crawled down the rocks. Its teeth glittered white and its eyes gazed at the small party with a hungry expression. It smelled wrong, of darkness and madness so Cypress moved in front of the hobbit and the young ones. She had no ties to the man; he could defend himself. A warning growl left her throat and the creature scurried backwards, hissing in fear and anger.

"A wolf, precious. What is a wolf doing in our lair? Nasty, white teeth and pain so much pain..." the creature spoke to itself and shuddered. "Gollum, gollum! We wants it gone, precious, make it leave. But what is the other, precious? Can we eats it?"

"I am a hobbit of the Shire," Ceraldine held her ground. "We were captured by goblins. Let us through, we mean you no harm."

"Hobbitses? What are hobbitses, precious? Are they crunchy?"

The wolf howled and Ceraldine brandished her dagger. She had no idea how to use it and hoped that the gleam of the dagger was enough to make the creature leave. The man, having also picked up a dagger in the goblin cave, moved to stand before the hobbit in a protective stance.

"We'll eats it, precious. We'll use it and we'll easts them all. Good food for poor Gollum, Gollum!" Gollum snarled and sought something around his neck. When his long fingers met only skin he let out a keening wail that made the children huddle around Ceraldine and protect their ears. "Loooost! The precious is looost. Thieves! Thieves!"

Gollum made a move as if to attack them, but Cypress sprang from her place and snapped at him, her teeth barely missing him. The creature reared and ran away, giving the wolf time to return to her charges and push them forward with her head. They ran, Cypress moving ahead of them and soon an opening in the mountain appeared. Sunlight poured in the mountain and with a joyous shout the children and Ceraldine all ran outside. Amdir, followed them, a smile on his face, but his eyes glancing warily left and right to make sure they would be safe.

As soon as she stepped outside the mountain, Cypress' nose was assaulted by a familiar smell. The scent of apples and smoke, of bread, sunlight and grass filled her nostrils and she howled with glee. It was dim and her Master was probably far away, but now she could follow him. Her whole body tensed in anticipation and she prepared to spring in the forest.

"Cypress," a small voice rang and the wolf turned around in confusion. It was not Ceraldine who had spoken, but one of the small ones. The child stumbled to the wolf's side and threw his small arms around her. He buried his head in her fur and babbled something the wolf could not understand. Cypress licked the child's hair, making him giggle in delight. His small hands reached around her neck and when she moved away she noticed with surprise he had tied something shiny around her neck.

"Briar, sweetheart," Ceraldine's voice rang. "She has no use of a ring. Why don't you take it home to your mama?"

"Mama has many shiny rings, but only wears the ring papa gave her," the boy answered. "And she saved us. She deserves a gift."

The child's logic made little sense to the wolf, yet Cypress licked his face and he broke into another grin. Even the man grinned at her, his previous fears cast aside. Ceraldine was the last that came to Cypress and petting her on the head, whispered.

"Go find cousin Bilbo. I'm not sure what you two are doing so far from the Shire, but I'm sure he needs and misses you. Go, run, Cypress!"

The wolf howled once more and sprinted, leaving the children, Ceraldine and the man behind. She ran through the forest until she felt something harsh tickle her nostrils. Fire and smoke almost chocked her as she ran further and Cypress found herself in the middle of a blazing forest. Her senses were yelling at her, run away, run away, but her nose was telling her that her Master was near. Also, her heart was screaming that he needed her, that he was in danger. The sounds of orcs and howling wargs assaulted her as she ran closer and closer to the edge of the forest. There, in the middle of a fire, facing a large orc and an enemy from their past, her Master was standing between one dwarf and certain death.

With a furious howl, Cypress jumped straight at her Master's side. The white warg's eyes narrow in anger and the beast let out an earth shattering roar. Astride him, his rider did his best to control the beast, not knowing what had caused its sudden fury. It seemed that for once beast and rider did not agree who was more important to kill: a hobbit and his wolf, or a dwarf king.

Time seemed to slow down... her Master made no move to mount her yet, but Cypress could tell from his stance that he was ready to fight. The fire reflected in his eyes screamed murder and some of the weaker orcs backed away from this tiny figure that seemed as strong as steel. With her fangs bared she looked the warg squarely in the eyes.

Then suddenly, in a fluid jump, Bilbo was on her back. Her entire being shook with anticipation and her howls made half of the orcs scamper away. Their wargs, already hurt by the flames flattened to the ground. The Pale Orc spat something and his warg howled...

The two prowled closer... it has started...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me for leaving you hanging like this XD
> 
> 1) Ok, my personal headcannon ( aided by the Lord of the Rings Online ) is the following: Amdir is a Ranger that patrols the wilderness between Bree, Archet and Combe. During a goblin raid he was captured and brought to the Misty Mountains as a slave. The two children are merchant children that were stolen from a caravan. Ceraldine Brandybuck nee Baggins was a hobbit that lived in Hobbiton, near Bag End as a child. When she got married to a Brandybuck lad she moved to Buckland. In the Lord of the Rings online both her and Mungo Sackville-Baggins are kidnapped by ruffians that mistake them for the Ringbearer. Let us assume that here only Ceraldine was kidnapped and handed to the goblins as a slave. So basically I'm moving their stories backwards in time about 60 years from the game.
> 
> 2) Cypress distinguishes different people and places based on scent. Ceraldine smells like something old and dangerous because she lives near the Old Forest. What the wolf is actually sensing is the smell of the trees. The two children are, in my vision, aged 4 and 8. And the Ring XD I have so many evil plans for that Ring and Cypress until Bilbo actually gets around to using it. *cackle*
> 
> Let me know what you thought about this chapter.


	10. True colors are shown at last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnd *drum beat* the confrontation ( I've been eager to write this ever since I started this story even though I hate battle scenes. ) Hope I made it realistic enough. I'm not great at writing battle scenes, probably because I rarely watch them or read about them. Thank you once more for your support!

The howl that seemed to rip through the forest made Bilbo's heart freeze in his chest. He knew that howl, he knew it as he knew his mother's soft touch and his father's loving embrace. It was Cypress and she was alive. Had he been anywhere else but where he was, the hobbit would have cried out in joy and ran to his wolf's side. As it was, he stood his ground, not one flicker of emotion fluttering on his face save for the spark rekindled in his eyes.

As soon as the wolf skidded to a halt by his side, Bilbo became someone else entirely. With the flames licking at the ground around him and the shadows playing on his face, the hobbit was no longer the fussy and genteel being the dwarfs had met in the Shire. He was not the one complaining about pluming and protecting his mother's china. In his place stood a being of fire and steel, eyes brimming with rage and burning with a hint of careless madness in them.

In a fluid motion, Bilbo mounted his wolf, his weapon of choice glittering dangerously in the light of the spreading fire. Under him, Cypress was taunt and feral, ready to attack and rip to pieces. A voice was whispering in her ear, murmuring of blood and death, of hunters and doom. She did not know the whisper came from the ring tied around her neck, but the words fueled her rage even more. Her body shook with tension; she was ready to kill and destroy.

In its sheath, the sword glowed blue in the darkness. The spear was held forward, knuckles white against the dark wood. Twin heartbeats drummed rapidly in perfect sync in the chest of wolf and master. Cypress howled powerfully and some of the orcs scampered away. The vision in front of their eyes screamed danger, pain and death. It awoke something in the souls, a visceral fear spread by those who had wandered too close to the borders of the Shire. A memory rose in the mind of one creature, remembrance of winter and black blood staining the snow. The orc staggered backwards and spat a single word in his vile tongue.

"Sentinel!"

The other orcs picked up the cry and carried it. Some had heard of the Sentinel, while others had had brethren lost to death in the forests of the Shire. The Rangers were a peril they knew well, knew how to fight and sometimes overwhelm. But the Sentinel was a mystery... none knew what it was. None knew when it would appear and his beast was just as merciless as master.

Azog threw his head backwards and roared. Fury danced on his face as his feature contorted in hatred. He had heard of the Sentinel, the watcher who protected the borders of the rat country by the sea alongside those wretched Rangers. He had thought the Sentinel to be an elf or a man, perhaps even a dwarf... a warrior. Never had he expected to see a pathetic Halfling. How had his orcs fallen prey to this Shire rat?!

"Die, Akashuga!" the Pale Orc snarled with hatred.

The white warg prowled closer and closer. It seemed that now both creatures were of the same mind. The Halfling had to die, before they would deal with the dwarf king. They paid no heed to the battle cries of the other dwarves as they sprang from the trees and entered the fray. The other orcs would take care of them.

And then they leaped... warg and wolf sprang at one another, claws scratching and teeth biting. With agility not many would have expected from him, Bilbo twisted on his wolf's back, bringing his spear to meet Azog's hit mid-air. The wood shook in his hand and splintered at the edges. The hit had rattled Bilbo enough to make him lose his balance in the saddle, which he recovered as quickly as possible.

The orc roared and moved to strike again, but already Cypress and the warg had sprung aside. The second leap sent both riders jumping on the ground. Teeth barred and fury thrumming in his veins, Bilbo flicked his spear at Azog, the blade cutting across the Pale Orc's side. The heavy mace came down, barely missing Bilbo who had ducked in the last moment. The hobbit danced around the orc, praying for a miracle and knowing that he stood no chance of defeating Azog.

A few paces away from their two riders, the wolf and the warg were prowling around one another. Cypress was limping painfully, her side bleeding from long gashes. One of her ears was shredded and she barely held her ground. The warg had not come unscathed though. He was bleeding from a bite to the shoulder and a scratch over his face and muzzle had rendered one of his eyes useless. Still, though injured and weary, the two did not back down, hatred and vengeance fueling their movements.

Just as both Cypress and Bilbo were despairing because of pain and sheer hopelessness, a shrill cry rang in the air and several eagles flew above their heads. Massive claws grabbed the wolf from the ground and Cypress howled and struggled, afraid to see herself lifted so high above the ground. Another eagle, with the same gentle movements caught Bilbo in its claws and dropped him on the back of one of its kin. Looking around, Bilbo was glad to see that all his companions had been saved, though it appeared that Thorin was unconscious.

The eagles finally reached a rock plateau and placed their charges down with infinite gentleness. As soon as she saw herself on solid ground, Cypress let out a relieved whine. Gandalf quickly rushed at Thorin's side and muttered strange words, until the dwarf's eyes started to flutter open.

The dwarf king slowly began to stand and all gave a relieved sigh. Although it was clear he was in pain, Thorin was alive.

"The Halfling…?" he asked looking around. "Where?"

Gandalf moved a few paces left, bringing Bilbo into full view. Thorin's blue gaze met Bilbo's worn and tired one. All fire seemed to have left the hobbit. His Took side had retreated leaving only the weary Baggins side to face the outcome. Thorin's face morphed into a frown as he stepped forward. The hobbit flinched and almost swayed on his feet, but remained in place.

"You." He gasped out with a hoarse voice. "What in Mahal's name do you think you were you doing?"

The entire Company watched the exchange in silence. Bilbo's shoulders sagged; he was much too tired to fight Thorin Oakenshield as well. He would have wanted to give an explanation, to say that this had been his life since his parents had died. That he along with the Rangers had protected the borders of the Shire. However, the truth was that he had known it was folly to engage Azog in a fight. He had known he had no chance to survive. But he could not let Thorin die. He could not stand and watch as this king who risked everything for his people was slaughtered.

"You nearly got yourself killed." Thorin continued with ire. "Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild?"

Bilbo glanced at his feet and the ground, unable to meet Thorn's eyes. He had hoped, in the cave that a measure of understanding had come between them. Apparently he had been wrong.

"I have never been so wrong in my entire life."

Strong arms encircled him and Bilbo found himself swept in a powerful embrace. The Company cheered around them, but all the hobbit could focus on was the warmth spreading through his entire being and how right the embrace felt. They were in the wild and they were far from safe. Orcs were hunting them, Azog was still alive and his white warg hated him and Cypress as much as its master hated the Line of Durin. Yet, in Thorin's strong arms Bilbo felt safe and happy, for the first time since his parents had perished.

"I am sorry I doubted you." Thorin said with a soft smile, his eyes no longer clouded by distrust.

"It's all right," Bilbo reassured him. "I would have doubted myself. It's not like you knew much about me," here the hobbit threw Gandalf a quick glance.

Thorin's eyes lifted upwards and a bright smile settled on his face. Turning around, Bilbo saw what the dwarf king had spotted. In the distance, a lone peak was jutting in the clouds. Where Bilbo saw a beautiful mountain, a hazy form against the bright colors of the sky, the dwarfs saw a home, a purpose, the end of a quest.

"Erebor." Gandalf nodded. "The lonely mountain. The last of the great dwarven kingdoms."

"Our home," Thorin added, a wistful look settling over him.

This was what Bilbo had left his precious Shire for. The reason why he had ran headfirst into this adventure. He had the chance the help Thorin and his Company reclaim their home. He had a chance to help set things right and maybe even forgive himself on the way. But, if he wished to do so, he had to be honest and tell his story from beginning to end.

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~~

They did not get any further that day. All were tired and some wounded. Thorin was hurt the most, but most members of the Company had come out of the fight with the orcs with various burns, scratches or even bite mark. The wounds and hits received in the goblin lair had also caught up with them. By the time Oin and Gandalf had finished treating them – some of their packs having been mysteriously saved from the caves by Gandalf – most of them were curled on the hard ground, snoring deeply and recovering their strength.

Bilbo sat by the fire, his fingers tangled in the fur of his battered wolf. As soon as she had been settled on the ground, Cypress had fallen in a half faint, half slumber. The wolf had been sore and wounded, too exhausted to even think of remaining awake and making sure her surroundings were safe. Her body simply gave up under her and even hours later she was too deep into slumber to be roused.

Not even tending to her wounds had shaken her from it. With a lone tear glittering at the corner of his eyes, Bilbo pressed his head in her fur as he had done when he was just a faunt and she just a cub. He had thought he had lost her forever. Seeing her alive, running at his side as always, brought hope as never before in his soul. And now she was at his feet, wounded but breathing, and he felt as though he should send her back home to keep her safe for however long they still had together.

The smell of pipe weed drifted to him and Bilbo straitened. His hand went to his breast pocket feeling the small pouch of Old Toby. His pipe was, unfortunately, in one of the packs that had been lost in the caves. Sighing to himself, he turned to see who was smoking and noticed Thorin awake, not too far from him, watching the Company with vigilance.

"You should rest," Bilbo said softly. "The eagles are standing guard. No harm will come to them," the hobbit pointed to the rest of the Company.

Thorin harrumphed, yet said nothing. He measured Bilbo up and down with keen eyes. There was something that was no right about the hobbit. He was a walking contradiction, all soft spots and fine clothes, yet strong as mithril when the need arose.

"You puzzle me, Master Baggins," Thorin admitted and at Bilbo's soft hmm, continued. "You fuss about handkerchiefs and ruined waistcoats, about hay fever and lost buttons. Yet, when the need arises, you show a completely different side. You wield the spear as one accustomed to battle and look death in the eyes. You hide much and I think not even the wizard knows who you really are."

"Gandalf knows little about me. He assumes much and most of it is, of course true. After all there is no tricking the meddlesome wizard. Yet, when it comes to certainty he does not know as much as he would like," Bilbo sighed. "My mother, Belladonna Took, was his companion in many adventures. Quite the scandal of the Shire when she just left one day ... And she was dear to him, of that I am sure. But Gandalf has not been back to the Shire since her death and much has changed in the meantime."

"The wizard was definitely right when he insisted you become a member of our Company," Thorin remarked. "You showed your skill and bravery. You charged Azog the Defiler showing little regard to their safety," the dwarf king's blue eyes seemed to pierce Bilbo to the very core when Thorin continued. "Fighting these beasts, one starts learning their foul speech. They called you Sentinel and recognized you. How could orcs from the Gundabad Mountains recognize a hobbit of the Shire? And then there was what you said in the goblin caves..."

Bilbo stilled... here was his chance to tell his story, yet the fact only brought dread into his soul. He did not want to remember, he did not want to think back.

Cold... freezing cold and howls piercing his soul... blood so red staining the snow and death so much death...

"Bilbo?" Thorin asked in a much more gentle tone. It was the first time the dwarf king addressed him by his name. Usually it was "halfling", "burglar" or "hobbit". Sometimes, if lucky, it was "Master Baggins." Shaking himself from his stupor, Bilbo answered, his voice quivering just a little.

"It started during the Fell Winter, after Cypress returned to us. Mother and I had saved her life when she was a cub and she returned, years later, to protect us. The Brandywine River froze over allowing wolves to come in the Shire," he shivered, the cold of those days returning to him. The blizzard was howling in his ears, stronger than any memory. "If it had been only them we would have been able to handle it. But hunger had settled in for the winter raged a long time. Then the orcs came on their path... and we were already weak enough by then. Buckland and Frogmorton burned... even now they are not fully recovered..."

In the dead of the night, with all members of the Company deep in slumber, Bilbo told a story of pain and loss, of victory so bitter and haunting nightmares that lasted for years to come. He spoke of tears and mourning, of a guilt laden soul.

"I became the Sentinel, as you tell me the orcs call me, the watcher in the shadows. There was not much I could do that the Rangers did not. However, if I had the chance to save one family from the pain mine went through, I had to take it," a rueful smile danced on Bilbo's features. "I guess I've always been more of a Took than a Baggins. I always longed for adventures as a child. But as a true Baggins I enjoy the comforts of home and hearth. Two sides of the same coin."

"You are full of surprises," Thorin remarked, "and I keep underestimating you. I apologize for the harsh words spoken in Rivendell. I spoke without knowing the truth."

"You are forgiven. You had no way of knowing," stifling a yawn, Bilbo curled around Cypress and allowed sleep to wash over him. He almost did not hear Thorin's last two questions, asked softly, knowing that the hobbit would not answer them.

"Why then did you save me? Why risk everything for mere strangers?"

'Because I would have no one to mourn me if I pass, but you have a family,' Bilbo thought, halfway into the land of dreams. 'Because you have two nephews who look at you as if you were Durin reborn and you have people who rely on you. Because you have earned my respect and my trust... Because I will not fail another person I have grown to care about.'

He was too deep in slumber to feel a fur and velvet coat get settled over his sleeping form. He could not hear a deep voice speaking into the night.

"You are truly one of our own, Bilbo Baggins. And you matter a great lot, no matter what I might have said. "

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~~

_In her dream, Cypress was surrounded by darkness. She ran until her legs gave up under her, yet the shadows followed her unrelenting. A shriek, more terrifying than anything she had ever heard, rang next to her. Fear gripped her soul powerfully and ice flew in her veins. She struggled to her feet and ran again, but this time the darkness gave way to fire. Flames licked at her feet and set her fur ablaze. Howling in pain, she did not notice the figure cloaked entirely in black that approached her. A long dagger glittered in the light of the fire and fell._

The wolf opened her eyes in fright. She saw the remains of a fire and the eagles guarding their sleep. Around her dwarfs were snoring deeply. Resting his head on her fur, Cypress' Master was trembling softly in his sleep. The wolf turned around and licked his face gently. Yet, in her soul, a poison was taking roots. A seductive voice was whispering in her ear and the words she understood were words of darkness and death. She longed to give in to the whisper, to listen to the words that spoke of hunt and prey, of blood and the right granted to her at birth... However, the wolf growled softly and the words subsided. She did not know what they were, but they were wrong and poisonous. She could not trust the voice.

Around her neck, the Ring was slowly waking up. The baser instincts of the wolf were fueling its Darkness. Soon, it would be able to call to its Master and return...

Thus, the night passed giving way to the day. Dawn broke over the mountains and the Company woke, preparing to continue their journey. They needed to find shelter and recover from Azog's attack. Gandalf's promise of a friend and a brief respite came as a much welcomed blessing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we wrap up the first movie XD Part of me wants to wait for the second movie to come out, because I am eager to see what twists Peter Jackson comes up with and how I can use them in my head cannon. However, this story has a mind of its own and demands to be continued. Therefore, we'll be moving into book waters next chapter and several twists will feature ahead.
> 
> About the Ring... I love playing with the powers of the Ring and its influence in my stories. Those who read Only time will tell know that it was an important factor in my story. Likewise, here I will be playing with its influence over Cypress ( and later Bilbo ), with the way it corrupts and the way it stirs the baser wolf instincts in Cypress' soul. Ye be warned, angst is ahead :P Enjoy and let me know what you think.


	11. Comfort is a rare blessing on the road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments! I hope to be able to resume my quicker updating pace; I've been at the countryside and one thing or another kept distracting me. I'm also thinking of writing a modern!AU, but I can't come up with any ideas. Any prompts? If you guys have prompts for me I'll simply gather them in a series of oneshots and short stories. Till then enjoy and let me know what you think!

The cold water of the river was soothing on his bruised back and stiff limbs. Once the rush of adrenaline had passed, all his bruises and cuts started making themselves known. With the Great River mere paces from them, all members of the Company had used the opportunity for a bath. Bilbo had retired to a more secluded spot – "I am a respectable hobbit and we do not bathe with company thank you very much", Bilbo had spluttered when Fili and Kili had asked him to join them, much to the amusement of the entire Company – and allowed the icy cold water to wash over his battered body. On the rocks nearby, Cypress was watching her Master, her keen eyes vigilant for any signs of danger.

Bilbo sighed as he glazed in the crystal waters of the river and tended to his bath. It was perhaps the last decent bath he would be able to take for a while, therefore the hobbit made sure to scrub his body of dried dirt and blood until it left his skin raw.

The image that shone in the waters of the river almost made him wonder who he really was and what happened to the gentlehobbit of two decades ago. His eyes were dark, tainted by loss and death. However, the guilt in them had been tempered by the thirst for adventure and the drive to see the quest to an end. His body had lost all the fat Hobbits favored – "You couldn't look more unhobbitish even if you tried," Lobelia had scorned him, though her words lacked their usual venom – and was littered with dark bruises and old scars, remnants of the Goblin Caves and the Fell Winter. He knew that were he to look closer, he would also see the signs of his first encounter with the white warg: a faint scar near his left temple and claw marks on his right arm.

He shivered as the wind picked up and added to the cold around him when he left the waters of the river. His spare clothes had been lost in the caves so he had to make do with things borrowed from the dwarves: a much too large tunic from Bofur and a warm, knit cloak with a hood from Ori. Thankfully his pants were still usable ( his vest was well beyond repair, unfortunately ). After dressing himself and glancing once more in the waters of the river, Bilbo allowed a small smile to flutter on his lips. He looked quite like Bullroarer Took. For the first time since the winter, he allowed himself to think that his mother would be proud of him ( and his Baggins relatives would be even more scandalized ). He chuckled and beamed at Cypress.

"Well girl, it seems old Bullroarer has competition," the hobbit laughed and petted the wolf's fur. "He got to fight goblins and invent golf. We're off to steal from a dragon."

He scratched the wolf between the ears and down her neck. Just as he was about to stumble over the string necklace and the ring – that could not be seen under Cypress' fur – a voice called.

"All ready, Bilbo?" Bofur grinned, approaching the hobbit.

"Yes. Are we to be on our way?"

"Aye! Gandalf said if we make haste we can reach the house of his friend in two days time. Thorin called everyone back to Carrock to get our packs and be on our way."

The two returned to the rock plateau followed by Cypress. None noticed the way the wolves' eyes had narrowed, almost imperceptibly when Bilbo's fingers had almost brushed against the string necklace. Nor did they see the tension in her posture and or heard the soft growl that hummed in her chest. There was something telling her the gift from the small child was hers and hers alone. No one had the right to touch it or take it... not even her Master. A tint of madness lurked deep in her silver eyes.

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

After the Stone Giants, Bilbo had been sure nothing could surprise him anymore. After all, what could possibly be harder to imagine? He decided he had been very, very wrong. Upon arriving at the edge of Beorn's bee pastures, the Company had stumbled across what had to be the biggest bees in Middle Earth. The hobbit tried to stay as far away from them as possible.

"I imagine, if they sting me, I would swell up to double my size," Bilbo grumbled as he walked as far away from the bees as possible.

"We are getting close," Gandalf revealed. "This is the edge of his bee pastures," the wizard then proceeded to tell them more about their future host ( who was a skin-changer of all things ) and his amazing animals ( who could apparently talk ) until they came to a tall hedge with a door in it.

"I shall go first," the wizard said. "Bilbo and Cypress will come with me. Then I shall whistle for you and you shall each come in pairs of two."

Behind the gate they were able to see gardens and many wooden buildings. It appeared that Beorn had everything: barns, stables, sheds, and a long, low wooden house. A pair of bay horses spotted them and gazed at the intruders with intelligent faces. Moments later, they trotted towards the house, presumably to call their master.

They soon came to a courtyard. A large man, much larger than any Bilbo had seen in his life, was leaning on an axe and glaring at them. He had thick black hair and beard. His eyes held something dangerous in them, the warning of the wild.

"Good morning," Gandalf hailed and proceeded to explain their situation, not once mentioning there was a company waiting at the hedge.

"I may give you aid or may not depending on your story," Beorn gazed at Bilbo with thinly veiled curiosity. He noticed the shift in Cypress' position, the way she moved forward to shield her master and the way the hobbit placed a reassuring hand on the wolf's back.

"What about you, little fellow? Where is your place in this story? You do not look like someone who ought to roam the wild."

"My name is Bilbo Baggins," said Bilbo, in a clear voice, despite the anxiety he felt in the presence of the mountain of a man "And I am a hobbit of the Shire."

"A hobbit?" Beorn frowned in surprise. "What is a hobbit doing east of the Misty Mountains? And since when do hobbits keep wolves around their homes?"

"Cypress is my companion," Bilbo stated calmly. Beorn threw one last look at the wolf, his brows furrowing as if finding something wrong with her. Then, he turned his back and beckoned them inside.

"Come, tell me this story of yours from beginning to end."

What happened next would make Bilbo wonder whether Gandalf would be able to charm the dragon himself if he put his mind to it. It was one thing to be a good storyteller and another to be as cunning as the wizard and manage to secure shelter for thirteen dwarves, one hobbit and one wolf. Yet, as Gandalf started spinning their tale and the dwarves entered in pairs five minutes apart, Beorn was so engrossed in their story that he did not bid them leave. He listened, making comments now and then, and often glancing at Cypress as if she was a puzzle waiting to be deciphered.

By the time Gandalf had finished his story, Beorn was in high spirits and allowed them to remain in his house.

~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

The next day dawned brightly, yet Bilbo preferred to cuddle under his woolen blankets and sleep almost till noon. The dwarves cast him indulgent glances and allowed him this moment of respite. Even Cypress who was usually up at the crack of dawn, slept longer, glad to feel safe for the first time since Rivendell.

When he finally woke up, Bilbo discovered with dismay that almost all the food was gone. The dwarves had apparently embraced hobbit customs and during their stay at Beorn's decided to eat both breakfast and second breakfast.

"There's some bread and honey left, Mister Bilbo," Ori told him seeing Bilbo's dejected face. "Dori made sure to store it away for you. Otherwise Bombur would have eaten everything."

"Thank you, Ori! I will make sure to thank Dori as well."

The bread smelled heavenly as if it had just been taken out of the oven. The food that Dori put away for him was more than enough and soon Bilbo found himself unable to take another bite.

"Where is Gandalf?" Bilbo asked. "And where is our host?"

"Haven't seen Beorn today," Bofur replied cheerily. "Gandalf, on the other hand, said he had something to do and told us that he would be returning shortly."

Bilbo shrugged and left it as it was. Everyone knew Gandalf was full of secrets. Whenever the wizard deemed them ready to learn the news, he would tell them. As for Beorn, the large man made Bilbo jumpy and part of him was glad he was not around. Every time the skin-changer looked at either him or Cypress, the hobbit had the feeling that he was weighting them and finding them lacking. Whatever was the problem, he hoped he would be told sooner or later.

The weather had taken a turn for the better. The shining sun and grass beckoned Bilbo outside. He left the wooden cabin and settled at the feet of a tree. He leaned against the trunk and gazed upwards, watching the sun shine through the leaves that had already started turning gold and auburn. Content, he allowed his mind to drift back to the Shire and autumns past. His parents had often taken him strolling in the Bindhole Woods during the warm days of Halimath. Later, after they had died, he had continued the tradition even though the strolls had brought back painful memories.

The sound of heavy boots stepping on grass and twigs echoed in the air. Bilbo turned his attention from the leaves of the tree to the approaching dwarf. There was a certain lightness on Thorin's features, a serenity that had not been there before. Bilbo knew for sure that it would disappear as soon as they would step foot in Mirkwood. However, for the time being, he enjoyed seeing the way Thorin's blue eyes shone with peace and the way his face was no longer marred by frowns. The sight of Erebor in the distance had brought hope to all the dwarves in the Company, but especially to their king.

A shout in the distance made Bilbo turn around and smile brightly: Fili and Kili were alternating between chasing Cypress and being chased by her when the wolf would decide to change the rules of the game. A few paces away Ori was sketching something and complaining loudly that the two were interrupting him. At one point, Fili changed course and grabbing a handful of leaves from the ground ran around the young scribe and dumped them all over him. Kili, never too far behind his brother, mirrored his actions. As a result a spluttering and red faced Ori tossed aside his sketches and started chasing the brothers throwing acorns at them with his slingshot.

"They remind me of my Took cousins," Bilbo chuckled as Thorin sat down beside him, watching his nephews with a fond smile. "They are in their tweens and think themselves invincible. They steal Farmer Maggot's crops and mushroom all the time. As a result he chases them with his dog across the fields."

"In dwarf years they are not much older than your cousins," Thorin remarked. "They are adults by our standards, but they are still very young."

A curse in Khuzdul was heard. When Bilbo turned his attention to the young dwarves again he noticed Fili and Kili buried under a pile of leaves, with Ori wearing a smug look besides them and Cypress licking Fili's face, making the young prince squirm and try to get away.

"My mother used to say that things happen as they are meant to," Bilbo said once the two had fallen into a comfortable silence. "That we are all given a path to walk on and that we must not fight against it," with misty eyes he glanced at the horizon and added. "She was very brave. She went on adventures with Gandalf and saw much darkness. She faced her fears and saved a wolf cub just because her silly son would not abandon it. She fought all the gossips in Hobbiton and gave them a thorough dressing down when they claimed she was not fit to be with my father. And she stood by his side and protected him to her death. I know she wouldn't have wanted me to blame myself, but I keep seeing her bloody body and keep hearing father's anguished cries. I keep thinking that I could have protected her, that I shouldn't have left her alone when she was too ill to defend herself properly. I never thought they would manage to break into Bag End," Bilbo added in a chocked voice. He did not know why everything came out, why he opened his heart to Thorin of all people. Yet, he knew that if anyone could understand the guilt crushing his soul, it was the dwarf king. They had both faced loss and lived through it, though none had come unscathed.

"In the first months after their death I wanted to leave Bag End," Bilbo admitted. "Everything was stifling with memories. Anywhere I looked I remembered them, but instead of good memories I was reminded of father's fevered dreams and mother's ashen face. I locked their room... it's still locked. After a while the pain started fading and I was able to remember the good not just the bad."

Thorin gazed at Bilbo in silence and watched the myriad of emotions that flickered in the hobbit's eyes. Pain, grief, longing and above all guilt flashed in succession. For such a gentle race, the pain endured during the Fell Winter must have been crippling. Yet, they struggled and moved past it. They learned to live with the pain.

Thorin tried not to think of the past as well; he did not want to envision three siblings running wild across dwarven halls. He did not want to see his brother's broken body at Azanulbizar nor his sister's stricken face when told of the death of her husband. Yet, the memories tugged at his soul. Bilbo had fallen in silence, wrapped in the past, when Thorin started speaking.

"I had a brother. His name was Frerin. He was the middle child and Kili is very like him both in looks and manners. We were inseparable: Frerin, our sister Dis and me. We were always together and the best of friends. At Azanulbizar he was only 48, much too young to see battle. Many of them were... many of them died too young." Thorin's voice turned darker, with an edge of sadness and thinly veiled rage. "We promised each other we would come back. He never did... I found his broken body near the Dimril Gate."

Thorin's blue eyes sought Bilbo's. Both were weighed down by sadness, loss and guilt.

"We are not so different after all," Thorin remarked with a pained smile. "We both blame ourselves for the death of our loved one and seek forgiveness. Thank you for sharing your past with me."

Silence once more stretched between them, as both mulled over the things they remembered and the loss they suffered. When noon announced the arrival of luncheon, both Gandalf and Beorn returned with news. A warg and an orc scout had dared venture on Beorn's lands which meant their enemies were close by. The skin-changer had gotten rid of both; an orc head stood impaled on a stake and a warg skin nailed to a nearby tree.

Despite the approaching danger, Beorn was in a boisterous mood. Seeing with his own eyes that their tale had been real cheered the skin-changer. He promised to give them ponies to lead them to the edge of Mirkwood and enough supplies for them to pass the forest without problems. He also warned them never to drink water from the streams in Mirkwood and never to leave the pass.

"The water of the forest is foul and nothing that grows in Mirkwood is edible anymore," Beorn had warned them. "Darkness has stretched over the forest and foul beasts roam free. The path will keep you as safe as possible. Do not stray from it."

The next day, as dawn broke, they prepared to leave the safety of Beorn's halls. As they settled their packs and prepared to leave their temporary shelter, the skin-changer drew Bilbo aside, gazing with worry at Cypress.

"There is something wrong with your wolf. A sickness is preying on her mind, though I cannot tell what it is. If you look closely into her eyes you will see a flash of madness taking over. I fear for her – and you – if you bring her in Mirkwood. The land there is dark and tainted. It might be enough to throw her over the edge."

"I cannot leave her behind," Bilbo said with worry tingeing his voice. "She would never allow being left here, in safety, while I venture the woods alone. During our road she fell off the cliffs into the shadows of the mountain. Even though she returned to me hale and hole, I too sensed something different about Cypress. I cannot give up on her though. I will see whatever it is and take care of her as she has taken care of me. I owe her my life many times over. I shall not abandon her at need."

The skin-changer nodded: "Then I fear that is the only path you can take. I wish you luck, little bunny. I hope that your wolf heals."

The unspoken sentence rang in silence between them. If Cypress were to go dark, she would turn against them... she would be killed. Bilbo was more than sure he would not be able to live with himself if something like that happened.

They ate their last meal at Beorn's and made their way to the edge of the Great Forest. From time to time the great shape of a bear appeared in their line of sight and they knew it was Beorn looking out for them and making sure his ponies would be returned.


	12. Darkness in my eyes and poison in my mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HATE MIRKWOOD! It is always a pain to write . Next story is going to be a modern!AU if only for the benefit of not having to deal with blasted Mirkwood. I can't understand why I have so many problems with that part of the story. Probably because of the spiders. Anyway, with a pretty long delay here is the next chapter. Recommended song for this chapter: Beside the fire by Anois ( they have a truly beautiful cover of the song that appears in the Lord of the Rings ). Hope this chapter ended up ok :) I love to imagine Bilbo singing so there's always a singing part in my stories when they pass through Mirkwood. What better way to dispel the darkness than through music?
> 
> From next chapter onward there will be two different point of views so I shall write separate chapters for them as I did for the goblin caves.

Eryn Galen had been its name once. Greenwood the Great men called it and in the past it was truly a wonder to behold. Now it was no longer so. Mirkwood it was called and it truly deserved its name. The forest was dark and damp, the air musky and hard to breath. The forest seemed to be pressing on them on all sides. The narrow path was barely visible in the dark and more than once huge, glittering eyes peered at them from the leaves of the trees. Each time they shone in the darkness, Bilbo found himself flinching and shielding away. There was something dark about those eyes, something unnatural...

As they delved deeper in deeper inside the forest, Bilbo was able to see the change Beorn had been talking about. As soon as they had stepped on the forest path, Cypress had tensed and drew into herself. With each step she made, the tension increased and she tended to snap and growl at anyone who dared approach her – except Bilbo. The dwarves all started watching her with weary eyes, reluctant to believe the wolf that had aided them was turning feral, but blaming the change on the forest instead. Still, Bilbo knew it was not only the forest that was poisoning the wolf's soul... even he had trouble getting to her from time to time. She no longer accepted being petted and drew away even from the smallest gesture. She guarded him with barely veiled viciousness, growling low at any perceived threat – both real and imaginary. As days passed, Bilbo found himself at wit's end. What had happened to her? What had changed her?

All of them were in low spirits. Their food was dwindling with each day that passed and their water had to be rationed. The forest seemed to be without end and the oppressive darkness was dampening their spirits. After spending a week in the forest all were tense and ready to lash at one another. Click-clacks rang in the darkness, sometimes very close to their position, a fact which had the younger dwarves worried and Cypress even more on the edge.

Trying to chase the gloom away and to calm his wolf, Bilbo turned to something all hobbits loved: singing. At first, he merely hummed to himself, drawing near to Cypress and brushing his side against her fur. Although she no longer allowed him to pet her, the wolf leaned into his touch for the first time since entering the forest. Heartened by this, Bilbo placed a hand on her back and continued his song, this time accompanying with words. It was an old ballad from the Shire, one his mother had sung to him when he was little. When the song stopped, he was startled to see three young dwarfs clustered around him and the rest of the Company several paces in front or behind him.

Blushing furiously, Bilbo tried to stammer an excuse – surely singing in an evil infested forest where they did not know what could attack them was not the proper thing to do – until Thorin stopped him and said in a deep and almost soothing voice.

"Peace, Master Baggins, there is no need to apologize."

"That song is the first cheerful thing we heard since we entered this blasted forest," Bofur added.

"Know any others, laddie?" Balin added with a comforting smile.

And so it was that Bilbo found himself going through his whole repertoire of Shire songs and ballads. Some made his heart ache as they reminded him of his parents. Others brought a smile on his face because they made him think of his home. However, all brought comfort to their Company and even seemed to calm Cypress down. When he found that he could no longer remember any of them, he started composing some of his own.

**I sit beside the fire and think  
of all that I have seen,  
of meadow-flowers and butterflies  
In summers that have been;  
Of yellow leaves and gossamer  
in autumns that there were,  
with morning mist and silver sun  
and wind upon my hair.  
**

Sometimes, when they had already camped and the mood rose, some of the dwarves joined in with their instruments – Bilbo would forever wonder how they had managed to keep hold of them in the Goblin Caves.

**I sit beside the fire and think  
of how the world will be  
when winter comes without a spring  
that I shall ever see.  
For still there are so many things  
that I have never seen:  
in every wood in every spring  
there is a different green.**

Dori, Nori and Ori would take out their flutes and play the tune, learning it as Bilbo sang. The brothers would clap in rhythm to the music, while Dwalin would pretend to be aloof and above such trivial matters ( still he would not be able to help himself and tap his fingers to his legs, keeping the beat ). Bifur and Bofur would accompany the 'Ri brothers with their clarinets – and truly, music was one of the few things that calmed Bifur and brought him out of his dark moods. Bombur would watch his brother and cousin fondly, while Balin would be at his brother's side, bemoaning the loss of their viols in the depth of the mountain.

**I sit beside the fire and think  
of people long ago,  
and people who will see a world  
that I shall never know.**

As for Thorin, sometimes, if they were very lucky, his deep voice would ring in the night. Some members of the Company would wonder at how perfect the voice of their leader sounded mingling with the much softer one of their burglar. All of them would watch the fond looks that would pass between the two and the flush of pleasure on the hobbit's face whenever their gazed locked mid song. The others would simply smile to themselves and say nothing; however, unknown to Bilbo and Thorin many bets would be made.

**But all the while I sit and think  
of times there were before,  
I listen for returning feet  
and voices at the door.**

After the end of the song, all things would return to normal. Thorin would take watch and keep a vigil eye over his Company. Bilbo would be back to trying to find out what was wrong to Cypress. The others would continue planning their journey ahead. And two young princes would continue plotting... their Uncle and Bilbo would be perfect together. If only the two could see that...

~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

After two weeks had passed they finally reached the river Beorn had told them about. By that time, their water was running dangerously low, their food was scarce and all of them were in foul tempers. Even Bilbo no longer had the heart to sing and as a result Cypress was back to her tense self.

Her dreams were plagued by fire and darkness, while her waking hours heard the poisonous whispers that grew louder and louder with each day that passed. The biggest part of her wanted to spring free of her supposed bonds and run into the woods like a wild thing. She wanted to find the creatures that made her feel so scared and tear into them, taste their blood and stop the infernal click-clacking. However, the small, sane part of her mind was still bound by duty to Bilbo. Everything was simply tearing her apart. She felt as if she was standing on the edge of the abyss once more... one soft gust of wind would be enough to send her plunging in the darkness.

The boat that bore them across the river was shaky and seemed much too frail. Bilbo clung to the wood until his knuckles turned white and gazed with fear at the ripples in the water. Hobbits were definitely not meant for crossing rivers. It wasn't until they had reached the other side and Thorin extended a hand to help him out of the boat – his large, calloused fingers feeling so right over Bilbo's soft, smaller ones – that Bilbo finally relaxed. Next to his feet Cypress was as tightly wound as a coin; every nerve in her body screamed danger and death. She knew the water was wrong and could not be trusted.

Soon, most of the Company had made it across. Dwalin and Ori were just preparing to step out of the boat when out of nowhere a deer burst from the forest, running without stop towards the river. It sprang from the river banks and would have hit Ori, had Dwalin not pushed him aside in that exact moment. Instead, the deer hit the massive dwarf and made him topple in the water.

"Dwalin!" Three anguished cries came at the same time from Ori, Balin and Thorin. Quickly collecting his wits, the young scribe caught Dwalin by the hood in the last moment, before the river had the chance to whisk him away. Thorin too jumped in the water and together they brought the tattooed dwarf to safety on the river banks.

All held their breath as Oin inspected Dwalin thoroughly. After what seemed like an eternity the dwarf announced that their companion was in a magical induced sleep and would wake up in time. Luckily there was no water in his lungs as Ori had managed to act just in time. The young scribe was miserable, wringing his hands together and staring morosely everywhere. Guilt weighed heavily on him; Ori was barely able to gaze at Balin knowing that he had been the one because of whom Dwalin had fallen into the river. Moreover, Dori's mothering and fussing distressed him even more.

They built a stretcher and soldiered on. The dwarfs took turns carrying Dwalin. That night everyone was silent when they set camp. Balin was fraught with worry over his brother. The elder 'Ri brothers were still shaken by how close their brother had come to falling into the river. All feared what else the accursed forest would bring.

Ori stood by the fire, staring into darkness, daring not to look at anyone least they saw the guilt weighing down on him. It wasn't just the fact that Dwalin had fallen into the river to protect him. No, it was more... A gentle hand sat on his shoulder and Ori flinched. Turning around he met Bilbo's eyes and saw understanding in the hobbit's gaze.

"Do not allow the guilt to weigh on your soul. It was Dwalin's choice to protect you and he would be annoyed to see that you doubt his decisions. Besides," Bilbo reassured him. "he will wake up. And when he does, you should tell him. After all there's no knowing what tomorrow will bring."

Ori flushed bright red under the sage look the hobbit threw him. Perhaps Bilbo was right...

~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

Days passed and their packs became lighter and lighter. They started despairing they would ever get out of the forest. It was during the fourth day since they had crossed the stream that disaster struck. A tree had fallen and blocked the path completely. There was no way they could climb over it or go around it without leaving the path. Although they would have to venture the depth of the woods for only a few paces all were loath the do so, remembering Beorn's advice.

The forest seemed even more threatening now that they had to venture through the woods. Several pairs of glimmering eyes peered at them from the foliage of the trees. Click-clacks rang everywhere as soon as they made the first steps of the forest path. It wasn't until they were all in the middle of the trees, Dwalin being carried by Dori and Bombur, that the attack came. Thick, spider webs rained down on them and gigantic arachnids sprang in their midst.

The spiders pressed on them on all sides. Kili's arrows flew based more on instinct that actual sight. All dwarves had their weapons out and started slaying the beasts, but as the spiders attacked they found themselves divided.

One of the arachnids attacked Cypress, its claws pressed dangerously to the wolf's neck. Cypress twisted, clawing and biting the spider. A red haze had settled over her eyes and she fought with fury, feeling the desire to rip the spiders apart, to tear their bodies and leave them a bloody mess. She howled when the pincers of one of the beasts bit into her skin and growled at it. An arrow flew mere inches from her and embedded itself in the spider's body. The wolf gave the still twitching spider the killing blow. However, she did not notice the string around her neck tear. As she sprang in the darkness, eager to find another foe, she failed to notice the necklace snapping and the Ring falling on the ground. She ran, not looking behind, fueled by battle lust. She forgot about her Master completely as she lost herself in the darkness.

Meanwhile, Bilbo had taken his small sword out, using it with more ease than the spear in the cluttered and oppressive forest. Soon, he found himself cut off from the rest of the Company. Even as the sword bit into the body of a spider and slew it on the spot, the hobbit noticed that he was all alone. His voice called the name of his companions, but the darkness of the forest brought no answer back. They had disappeared in the woods, forgetting about him.

His sword glowed with a dim blue light. There were orcs somewhere in the woods, far away perhaps, but still the danger existed. He had to find his friends. They had to get out of Mirkwood as soon as possible. He moved forward, aimlessly, desperately hoping he was moving in the right direction. After a few minutes he leaned on a tree, squinting in the darkness and calling desperately.

"Fili! Kili! Bofur! Balin! Ori! Nori! Thorin!"

No answer came and despair washed over him. What if they had been captured? What if they were far away and he had no hope of finding them? The forest was a maze and he had no map to help him navigate it. Something hit him at the back of the head and Bilbo found himself falling to the ground, a large spider descending upon him. With reflexes honed throughout the years, he twisted on the spot and drove his sword in the beast's stomach. The spider screeched and clacked its pincers in pain, but soon fell dead.

"Sting you shall be!" Bilbo said looking at his sword with determination burning in his eyes. "Sting, the spider's bane."

Just as he was about to rise to his feet and continue searching for his friends, his fingers stumbled over something cold and made of metal. With furrowed eyebrows, Bilbo picked up the object. It was a ring, plain and made of gold. Someone must have lost it in the forest, most likely someone who had fallen prey to the spiders. Without sparing it any other thought, Bilbo slipped it in his pocket, his fingers mindlessly playing with it as he moved forward as silently as possible.

Perhaps luck was finally on his side, because after what felt like hours of aimless walking, Bilbo stumbled across a tight patch of trees, bundled in spider webs. The beasts were everywhere and to his horror, Bilbo found out they were capable of speech.

**"It was a sharp struggle, but worth it," said one. "What nasty thick skins they have to be sure, but I'll wager there is good juice inside." "Aye, they'll make fine eating, when they've hung a bit," said another. "Don't hang 'em too long," said a third. "They're not as fat as they might be. Been feeding none too well of late, I should guess." "Kill'em, I say," hissed a fourth; "kill 'em now and hang 'em dead for a while."**

**"They're dead now, I'll warrant," said the first.**

**"That they are not. I saw one a-struggling just now. Just coming round again, I should say, after a bee-autiful sleep. I'll show you."**

It was only then that Bilbo noticed twelve silk cocoons, bundled tightly and hung up in trees. A nose, a leg or the tip of a hat peered from the spider webs. The dwarves had been caught and hung up like flies. One of the spiders pinched the biggest bundle – probably Bombur – whose free leg twitched and kicked the spider from the tree. Another big bundle – Dwalin most likely – started struggling in the bonds, trying to get free. It would have warmed Bilbo's heart to find out the tattooed dwarf had woken up had they not been in this predicament.

Unconsciously seeking some form of comfort and trying to gather up his courage and slip past the beasts, Bilbo slipped the Ring he had found on. He crept closer, trying to use the shadows of the forest as a shield. However, out of nowhere, a spider slung down to the ground on a spider web. The monster was just in front of Bilbo. With Sting in his hand, the hobbit prepared to fight till the end. However, the spider did nothing. It did not attack nor did it call the others over. It was as if he couldn't see Bilbo.

Cautiously, the hobbit moved around the creature. What was happening? It was as if he was invisible... it was in that moment that inspiration struck. The only thing that was different about Bilbo was the Ring he had found in the forest, the Ring that was now on his finger. Could it be a magical object? No matter what it was, Bilbo had to act fast.

Crunching to the ground, he grabbed the smoothest rocks he could find and started throwing them. He knocked three spiders from the branches and moved silently in another direction before hitting the ones on the ground.

**"Old fat spider spinning in a tree!  
Old fat spider can't see me!  
Attercop! Attercop!  
Won't you stop,  
Stop your spinning and look for me!  
Old Tomnoddy, all big body,  
Old Tomnoddy can't spy me!  
Attercop! Attercop!  
Down you drop!  
You'll never catch me up your tree!"**

Bilbo sang and threw rocks, leading the spiders away from his friends. Since they could not see him, the spiders took the bait and left the prisoners behind, trying to pursue the one who was mocking them.

As soon as they disappeared in the woods, Bilbo took the Ring off and ran to the tree. Quickly, he started freeing his friends, trying to ignore the pang in his hear that told him there were only twelve dwarves and Cypress was nowhere to be seen. The two princes were released first, followed by Balin, Dwalin and Ori. Despite the direness of the situation, upon seeing Dwalin alive and awake, Ori threw caution to the wind. Grabbing hold of Dwalin's tunic, the young dwarf drew him close and kissed him soundly, before turning around and moving to free his brothers. The shocked look on Dwalin's face might have been amusing had their situation been more comfortable. As it was, they moved quickly and soon all twelve dwarves were freed. Their weapons had all been bundled together in a cannon hung to the tree.

"We need to talk," Dwalin grumbled at Ori before preparing to leave the tree. The scribe nodded... they both knew then was not the time for idle chat. However, once they were safe, they would talk.

As the Company jumped to the ground, preparing to flee to safety, the spiders returned. Their pincers clacked with malice.

"We see you, nasty creature! And we're going to eat you! But first we'll leave you hanging."

Bilbo moved forward, Sting slashing wildly everywhere and pushing the spiders backwards.

"Go! Go and don't look back. I will disappear and draw them away."

With those words Bilbo disappeared and another song rang in the air.

**"Lazy Lob and crazy Cob  
are weaving webs to wind me.  
I am far more sweet than other meat,  
but still they cannot find me!  
Here am I, naughty little fly;  
you are fat and lazy.  
You cannot trap me, though you try,  
in your cobwebs crazy."**

The spiders quickly followed the nasty creature that had stabbed and mocked them, giving the dwarves the opportunity to press forward. Kili and Fili moved at the front, leading the Company in their uncle's stead who had proven to be the one missing member of their Company. All of them were sick and weary, barely able to move and defend themselves against the few spiders that had dared follow them.

At one point the hobbit reappeared at the back of their line, slashing at the spiders and urging everyone forward, convincing them not to give up. When things finally seemed hopeless they stepped inside a fire circle and noticed with amazement that the spiders were unable to follow them. The creatures hissed angrily and turned around, leaving the weary Company.

"Elven magic most likely," Balin remarked looking at the fire circle.

It was then that the last bit of strength left them. All members of the Company fell asleep, dreading what the following day would bring and wondering where Thorin was. Bilbo also wondered whether Cypress was still alive and whether she would ever return to him. Beorn's words and his own promise came back to him. He had failed his companion in the worst way possible. He had let her down and abandoned her.

~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~***~~~~

Far away, in a different place of the forest, a tired wolf sat on the hard, cold ground to recover her strength. After she had ran away, the haze that had settled over her mind had started to dissipate. The poison coated whispers had stopped and slowly, Cypress had returned to who she really was. When the influence of the Ring had finally worn off she had found herself lost in the forest, far away from her master and with no way to return to him. She could not smell him or the dwarves anywhere.

With a bitter howl, she hoisted herself to her feet and moved onward. In the distance Cypress could smell fresh water... she was thirsty and hungry. Perhaps there she would be able to recover her strength and find the will to continue on. Somehow, she would return to her Master. Somehow, she would earn his forgiveness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The parts in bold and the songs are taken from The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.


End file.
